


Blood Stains, Man Pain, and Happy Endings

by BlueRunawayMoon



Series: Sterek Drabble [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And Stiles is SO Not on Board With That, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Braeden Knows, Deaton is NOT helpful, Derek Feels, Derek Has Issues, Derek is a Failwolf, Derek is a Good Friend, Derek is obvilious, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Malia Knows, Rutting, Stiles Stilinski Being an Idiot, Stiles is Derek's Anchor, Stiles is Legal, The Monster Wants Stiles to have it's Babies, Wolf Derek, everyone knows, except Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:58:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4681244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRunawayMoon/pseuds/BlueRunawayMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has finally come to terms with the fact that he's in love with Derek, before he can decide to act on it though, Malia and Braeden return from hunting the Desert Wolf, and things get complicated. As if things weren't bad enough animals keep showing up drained of blood and Deaton seem's to think it won't be much longer before a human shares the same fate. Between hunting the newest monster of the week, Malia wanting a relationship with him again and Stiles trying not to be too obvious about being in love with Derek, Stiles is starting to wonder if his life will ever be free of drama.</p><p> </p><p>This is the second part of the story Raindrops, Whiskey, and Cute Kids, but I will put a very brief description in the beginning so you won't HAVE to read the previous if you don't want to.</p><p>I do not own Teen Wolf or any of it's characters, nor the gifts I may use. Unfortunately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Old Allies, New Enemies

So this work was actually inspired by a youtube video I saw the other day. Not sure if anyone's ever written a fanfic about it, but I think it fit's PERFECTLY with this story. Here's the link. You guys really should check it out.

 

But yeah i guess I SHOULD say that it would most likely be a spoiler lol But if you're like me I kind of like spoilers :/ Cause ima weirdo. 

 

[ ](<iframe%20width=%22560%22%20height=%22315%22%20src=%22https://www.youtube.com/embed/0cxAtKsETKs%22%20frameborder=%220%22%20allowfullscreen></iframe>)

 

 

 

 

_**The Story So Far: Derek & Braeden return to Beacon Hills, resulting in a fight between Stiles & Derek. Stiles is angry because Derek suddenly stopped responding to text messages/calls two months after he left. On Stiles 18th birthday he is given an amulet from Lydia - what no one knows is that the amulet is a sacred artifact that is capable of granting wishes. That night Stiles drunkenly wishes to himself that he knew what he wanted, that someone were there to show him. That next morning a child suddenly shows up at Derek's loft, who say's his name is Genim. Derek call's the Sheriff & Stiles, and when they show up Derek finds out that the boy is actually Stiles, who has been sent from the past; though none of the pack know how he was sent or by who. The pack begins to research for answers on how to send Genim back, while the boy forms an unlikely and slightly unnerving bond with Derek. Derek, who, as it turns out, is a softie when it comes to kids. Stiles doesn't feel comfortable with the develop between the two of them, especially when Genim tell's him that he LIKES Derek and keeps trying to convince Stiles that since they are the same person, Stiles must like him too. Embarrassing shenanigan's ensue. One day while having an intimate conversation with Derek, the amulet Lydia gave Stiles begins to glow. The Sheriff call's Stiles at that time as well, because apparently Genim has begun to fade. Everyone rushes to Deaton's for answers, and after Deaton see's Stiles amulet the pieces are put together. Stiles realizes that he is the reason Genim is there, and more importantly he realizes that he is in love with Derek. ** _

 

_**Annnnnd that's how the 1st part ended. This part will be mainly about Derek realizing he is in love with Stiles as well.** _

 

 

_***************************************************************** _

 

 

 

Stiles stayed clear of Derek. It kind of wasn't even an option to do anything but. If there was one thing about himself that Stiles understood, it was the fact that when he was in love with someone, he wore his heart on his fucking sleeve. He was all goo goo eyes and intense stares of longing. Just ask Lydia Martin. In plain terms, Stiles was about as obvious as a school girl with a crush. He just couldn't turn it off. 

 

So once again when he started bailing on pack nights Scott started fishing for answers. Answers that Stiles was so not going to give. Stiles had somehow managed to go a full week without giving his dad any straight answers of why his younger self had appeared and then vanished, but the man had begun to eye him with a narrowed gaze whenever they were in the same room, and Stiles always twitched under his searching gaze, afraid that he would figure it out somehow. The pack had been upset that they hadn't been there to see Genim leave, but they got over it eventually, and after asking for more details on the wish Stiles had made, surprisingly Lydia had been the one to finally make everyone back off. Stiles had taken one look at her and realized that she knew. Of course she would be the first to get it. She had been the brunt of Stiles affections for years after all. Thankfully the look she gave him had been slightly pitying and nothing else was said on the matter. 

 

Stiles ignored the messages Derek sent him, and honestly he felt like shit about it. Just before Stiles' big realization they had shared something, something meaningful and deep, a possible development in their friendship, and Stiles hated that he was most likely confusing Derek. Though Derek hadn't exactly opened up to him, he had shown a more vulnerable side of himself, and Stiles didn't want him to regret that decision. Stiles just... _he couldn't._ But Jesus did he want to.

 

Denying himself was weighing pretty heavily on him both mentally and physically wise, and after moping around in his room and sleeping constantly his dad had finally grabbed him up by his ear practically and thrown him in the shower one day, demanding he get out of whatever funk he was under and start functioning like a normal human being again. Which is how Stiles ended up going on daily jogs. It was nothing too strenuous. Just a short run in the preserve to clear his head and stretch his muscles.

 

He had asked Scott to run with him at first, but the guy seemed to be constantly with Kira now days, and somehow Stiles had found himself instead often running with Liam. As much as he and Liam liked to bicker sometimes, he really didn't mind. Stiles liked the bickering. Hell he thrived off of that shit. And Liam could be just as annoying as he was sometimes so Stiles always had plenty of energy from sheer annoyance alone. Truthfully though Stiles actually liked Liam. In a weird way he saw the guys as a younger brother almost. They were actually a lot alike. Well, other than Liam's popularity. His heart throb good looks. And yeah okay so he had been good at Lacrosse before becoming a wolf, too. But despite all that Liam always seemed to have a sort of loneliness to him. Stiles could see it easily when he was quiet, in the slump of his shoulders and the far away gaze in his eyes. Stiles knew about being lonely. And though Stiles wasn't a werewolf he still had problems in his own skin at times, just like Liam did after the change. So yeah. They got along pretty well because of that. Even though Liam did like to vanish while running and burst out of the tree's moment's later, wolfed out and scare the living shit out of Stiles. 

 

That was how the pranks started. Just little things here and there, a crap load of salt poured into Stiles tea instead of sugar, chocolate pudding in Liam's shoes. Just childish things that were equally amusing and annoying. 

 

Stiles and Liam were running through the Preserve, and Stiles may or may not have pushed Liam towards a rather large hole he had found the other day and covered up with some tree branches, when his phone went off in his gym shorts. He fished it out and gave Scott a wide grinned hello, watching as Liam scowled up at him from the hole. Eh, he was a werewolf. He'd be fine. 

 

_"Stiles, you need to get to Derek's loft. Now."_

 

Stiles' grin immedietly fell, and he scowled a bit, even though Scott couldn't see him. "What? Uh, how about no. Liam and I are kind of busy right now, actually."

 

"No we're not!" Liam called, hoping far too easily out of the hole and heading for Stiles, arm outstretched for the phone. 

 

Stiles glared at him, effectively dodging his reaching grasp. "Yes we are!" He hissed. "Scott you're beta is slacking. He just now fell in a hole. A  _hole_ , man. We need to train him better." Stiles slapped Liam's hand away, ignoring the boy's growl's.

 

Scott sighed over the line, like he was dealing with two young children and was quickly losing his patience. " _Stiles I'm serious. Something really important has come up. You're going to want to be here for this. I promise."_ And then. " _Liam drag his ass here if you have to!"_ And just like that the call disconnected. 

 

Stiles scoffed down at his phone. The audacity. 

 

"Come on." Liam was already turning and heading towards the edge of the Preserve where Stiles had parked his Jeep. 

 

He glared at the boy, digging his heels into the ground and crossing his arms over his chest. "If you wanna go that's fine. But you're going to have to run there or something, cause yeah I'm not going."

 

"But you heard Scott! He said it's important."

 

Stiles shrugged. "So he can just tell me after the pack meeting. I don't have to be there."

 

"But you're a part of the pack." Liam addressed the big ass elephant in the room. Er, the preserve. "Why the hell are you mad at Derek now?"

 

Stiles held up his pointer finger with a tsk. "First, language, young man. And second, I'm not mad at him."

 

Liam just stared dry pan at him a moment before rolling his eyes and heading towards Stiles again. Stiles backed away, a suspicious frown on his face. 

 

"What are you doing?"

 

Liam didn't say anything, just continued to advance, and then Stiles was letting out a loud squawking cry when he was suddenly pulled up and thrown over Liam's shoulder. He flailed around, smacking at Liam's back and kicking with his leg's. " _Are you serious right now?!_ How is this even possible? I'm like four freaking inches taller than you!"

 

"Uh, Werewolf, duh."

 

"Yeah, I got that!" Stiles hissed. "Just - Oh my God! Put me down I'll go!" He was lowered instantly, and Stiles stumbled on his feet a bit, straightening out his clothes and glaring at the boy. "Not cool, dude. Not cool!" He hissed before swinging around and stomping to his Jeep, Liam following behind with a cheeky grin.

 

****************************************

 

 

 

The entire ride to the loft Stiles had stewed with nervousness. He hadn't seen Derek in a week, and the thought of doing so now left a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had all but been blowing the guy off. Ignoring his text messages and calls, and Stiles really did understand the irony of that. Not too long ago he had been furious at Derek for doing the same thing of him. He understood it was pretty hypocritical of him, but he just couldn't help it. He was in love with Derek Hale, and that scared the shit out of him. _Derek_ scared the shit out of him. 

 

He knew that his high strung emotions were stinking up the small space because Liam kept sending him these annoyed little looks, his nose scrunched in distaste. Stiles ignored him for the most part. The kid probably wouldn't even begin to understand his problem. Liam was young. So freaking young (even if he were only two years below them), and as far as Stiles knew he had never had a girlfriend. He had never even heard Liam talking about girls for that matter. Hm. Stiles glanced over at him coyly, scanning his pretty boy good looks. Maybe Liam was gay? 

 

He tossed aside the idea as quickly as it had come. Mason, who was Liam's best friend, was gay. Liam didn't' seem to have any problem with being open about that kind of stuff, so Stiles figured if he were gay everyone would have known by now. Maybe he was asexual? Or hell, maybe he was just bad with girls. Stiles could understand that. Or maybe he was just one of those rare teenagers who didn't give a shit about romance and sex and just wanted to get out of high school. 

 

Realizing he had spent a good five minutes questioning Liam's sexuality Stiles shook his head to dislodge his train of thoughts, mentally sighing when he approached the large building Derek lived in. As always, the place looked shoddy as shit. What was it about Derek that he had to continuously find hovels to live in? As he searched for a place to park he spotted a sleek black motorcycle and his eyes bulged. That was....yeah, it totally was. Suddenly he forgot all about Derek and why he didn't want to be around him. Parking his jeep he jumped out and ran up to the building, Liam jogging along after him. Like usual, the lift was broke, so he took the stairs two at a time, and by the time he finally made it to the loft door he was sucking in deep gulps of air, grabbing his aching side. 

 

Suddenly the door was sliding open and Scott was standing there, a large grin on his face. Stiles looked over his shoulder and towards the living room, and let out a loud, happy laugh. He pushed past Scott and hurriedly made his way over to the gathered group of people, and all but tackled Malia in a hug. Malia laughed, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight. They squeezed the air from each other's lungs a long moment before Stiles finally pulled away, grinning down at Malia.

 

Malia wrinkled her nose, her eyes shinning. "Wow, you stink."

 

Stiles realized then that he was still in the clothes he had worn for his run, and was pretty much covered in sweat. He gave an apologetic laugh, looking down at himself. "Yeah, I guess I probably do."

 

"Seriously, though. What the hell were you guys doing?" Lydia scoffed then, her nose pinched as well as she glanced from Stiles to Liam. "Spare us all and go shower at least!"

 

Liam pouted beside him, lifting his shirt to sniff it. "I don't smell that bad."

 

Scott snorted, patting his shoulder before pulling his hand away with a grimace. "You totally do, bro. Lydia's right. We'll wait to talk until you guys shower. Derek do you mind if they use yours?"

 

Stiles felt like he had suddenly ran into a brick wall. He stiffened his shoulders, his body growing tense. He felt a prickling at the back of his neck and refused to turn around.

 

"It's fine. Stiles why don't you use the one upstairs. Liam you can use the one down the hall." The deep, slightly gruff voice came from somewhere behind him. 

 

"Do you have any extra clothes with you?" Scott asked him.

 

Luckily he did. "Yeah, there's some in my duffle in the Jeep. I guess Liam can borrow some. Think you can grab it for me?" Scott nodded and Stiles gave him a thumbs up, before turning to point at Liam. "And you better wash them when you're done! I don't want your wolf stink all over my stuff."

 

Liam rolled his eyes. "So i'm supposed to be okay bathed in your human stink? Great." He twisted around and promptly headed for the bathroom down the hall. 

 

Stiles huffed at him, turning to Scott and shaking his head. "I'm telling you, man. You've got to get that one under control. He's a loose cannon."

 

Scott shook his head with a grin, turning him and pushing him towards the stairs. "Hurry up. We want to hear about what happened with Malia and Braeden."

 

Braeden. Oh yeah. How had he forgotten about her? Against his better judgement Stiles' eyes slid sideways and finally settled on Derek. The man was standing near the wall, his head bent and talking to Braeden, who was making wide gestures with her hands. She looked...well, how she always looked. Awesome. Badass. Hot. And Jesus did it suck. Biting down on his lip Stiles glanced back up at Derek, his eyes roaming over his soft to the touch black hair and the lickably sexy beard covering his jaw. God what he wouldn't give to rub his cheek against that stubble, to bite down on that slightly pointy chin and -- Derek's head lifted then, his nose flaring before suddenly his eyes were locked with Stiles. It was like an electric current shot straight through his body. Stiles stumbled in his steps, grabbing onto the railing of the stairwell to keep from face planting. He licked dry lips and scrubbed a hand over his face, rushing up the stairs to get as far away from the guy as possible. 

 

 "Fucking great!" Stiles hissed at himself, stomping through Derek's room and towards the bathroom tucked into the corner. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned on it, shutting his eyes. Yeah. So he wasn't going to lie. He had sometimes found himself  _appreciating_ Derek's physique. But now that he was full aware of the fact that he actually had feeling's for the man it took that to a whole different level. Before, where Stiles may have glanced at Derek's broad shoulder's and thought ' _hmm, what nice broad shoulders'_ , now, he look's at them and thinks ' _hmm, what nice broad shoulders. I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands along their width, maybe drag my tongue up that nice curve where his neck starts'_. It's all very frustrating and Stiles has no idea how he's going to hide it, because it's a physical reaction! It's lust and lust  _smells_. In short, he was so freaking screwed. 

 

He pushed off of the door and hurriedly stripped, sliding the glass door and stepping into the small shower. He glanced around at Derek's shampoo's and soaps, and then stared down at a fluffy blue loufa hanging from one of the shower knobs. For some strange far fetched reason that fucking loufa was all it took for his dick to twitch in interest, and Stiles groaned, turning the water on full blast. All cold. It sucked, incredibly, but Stiles needed the cool down desperately. As soon as he picked up the bottle of shampoo though, and clicked the top, the scent that drifted up to his nose, a heavy spice that Stiles sometimes smelled when Derek was near, made scalding hot shoot down his belly and pool between his legs and Stiles groaned inwardly. He squirted some of the dark blue liquid into his palm and angrily scrubbed his head, scraping his nails over his scalp in the hopes that a little pain would make his growing dick give in. When he was done with his hair, he stared at the bar of soap sitting on a little cubby for a long moment, and then at the loufa. He honestly didn't know what was worse. Using the loufa that Derek rubbed all over his naked body, or just rubbing the bar of soap over his own naked body. In the end he thought the soap bar was the safest bet, so he quickly got it to lather up with the water and started to wash himself. The soap, surprisingly, smelt like sugary vanilla, and if his dick wasn't hard already that certainly did the trick. As Stiles ran his hands over his body, all he could think about was if Derek's skin would smell the same. Logically he knew that it wouldn't taste the same, but Stiles still found himself imagining it, and by the time he was finally done showering his dick was standing long and thick at attention. He stared down at it accusingly, knowing that there was nothing he could do to ease the hot ache. It wasn't like he could jack off in Derek's shower. The wolf would smell it later. 

 

Hating werewolves with a new intensity Stiles turned off the water and was about to slide open the screen door when suddenly the bathroom door was opening. He hurriedly slammed it shut the few inches it had cracked, and covered his junk with his hands.

 

"Dude!" Scott's voice echoed in the small room, clearly in disdain. "What the hell, man!"

 

Stiles groaned, knowing immedietly what he was talking about. "Shut up! I can't help it! I'm freaking eighteen years's old, this shit happens!"

 

" _But here?!_ " Scott sounded entirely too grossed out.

 

Stiles slid the shower door open until he could poke his face out, shooting a glare at him. "Don't even start! Like I haven't caught you -"

 

"Shut up!" Scott yelped, wide eyed and hand held up. "Just...hurry up and get dressed." He dropped Stiles duffle on the floor before casting him one last dissapointed shake of the head and then turning, closing the door behind him. 

 

Stiles pursed his lips and grabbed a towel that was folded up and sitting in a cubby over the toilet. He made quick work of drying himself, and then slung the towel around his waist as he searched for some clean clothes in his duffle. After pulling on some boxers he grabbed some lose, thin sweat pants and a red tee that was a size too shy for him. Liam it seemed had snagged his other, larger shirt, and Stiles grumbled as he pulled the shirt over his head, tugging it down into place as it strained across his shoulders. He decided it was best to go barefoot rather than put on his stinking sock's again and stuffed them in his bag, zipping it again and pulling it over his shoulders. He slid his phone in his pocket and grabbed his shoes, heading out of the bathroom.

 

As he entered Derek's bedroom again he paused, his eyes widening slightly. He had never really been up here before. At some point Derek had moved his bed from it's place out in the open downstairs and brought it up to the top floor of the loft. It was tucked in a corner of the room, near a window as large as the one downstairs. There was a large brown dresser against a far wall, and a chest at the end of Derek's bed, but other than that nothing else in the room. It was...kind of weird. But then again Derek had never really been the sort to hold onto things. Stiles imagined it had something to do with the fact that he didn't know how long he would ever stay in one place. It was kind of sad, actually, and something inside of him demanded that he go out and sneakily start buying things to decorate the loft in, in the hopes that Derek would somehow feel obligated and stay.

 

Yeah. Like that would happen.

 

Sighing, Stiles padded down the stairs, pausing when he came to the door of the bathroom on the first floor. He could hear the shower still running within and suddenly something wicked coiled in Stiles belly. He carefully lowered his duffle and shoes to the floor and crept closer to the door. For a moment he considered sneaking in and snapping a photo of Liam in the shower for blackmail, but that would be a little too weird, wouldn't it? He could always steal his clothes though. And the towel. Grinning like an idiot Stiles laid his hand on the door handle and thanked any body who was listening that the loft was so old that the bathroom door's didn't even have locks. He turned the knob, grinding his teeth the whole time, afraid to make any noise. Pushing softly he gave an inward sigh of relief when the door gave easily, and a blast of hot foggy air hit him in his face. Stiles crept slowly and silently into the room, his eyes on the maroon colored shower curtain a moment, before glancing down at the clothes laying on the floor, and then the one's folded and sitting on the toilet. He stood there a moment, his head cocked and a frown on his face. Because Stiles didn't remember Liam wearing dark wash pants and an equally dark Henley. Not to mention the black boots that looked to have been just kicked aside in haste. 

 

And then it hit him. It hit him soo fucking hard. Stiles stumbled back with wide eyes, barely holding in his gasp. Apparently his pounding heart gave him away though, because the next instant the shower curtain was jerked aside and a scowling Derek was staring straight at him.

 

Stiles felt his jaw drop and his eyes bulge. Natural instinct had him glancing downwards, past those wide shoulders and over well defined pec's, lower still over those wash board abs and then, oh god....

 

" _Stiles!"_

 

The sharp growl had his eyes jerking back up to see Derek watching him with a murderous glare. He let out a loud squawk and stumbled backwards. Unfortunately the door hadn't been fully open behind him so all he succeeded in doing was slamming it shut, his back slapping hard against it's surface. He held up his hands, blocking the view of Derek and turning his eyes at the ceiling. "Oh my God! This isn't what it looks like!" 

 

" _What the hell are you doing?!"_

 

Stiles flinched under the angry tone, one hand going down to begin grasping blindly for the door handle so he could get the hell out of there before the wolf killed him. "I thought you were Liam!" He hissed, and then heard how incredibly wrong that sounded. "I mean I was going to steal your clothes! His clothes! This whole stupid prank war we - _oh, my God why aren't you covering yourself!_ " He slapped a hand over his eyes after he had glanced back to the wolf and found him still standing there, in all his naked glory, not even bothered by his own nudity in the least bit.

 

"You're the one that busted in while I was showering you idiot!" Derek hissed. "Get. The hell. Out!"

 

Stiles bobbed his head and twisted around, staring down at the door and grabbing at the handle. He jerked it open and stumbled out, nearly face planting on the opposite wall. He gave a loud groan, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Oh sweet Jesus, the images." He cried. "They'll never go away." Behind him he heard a loud, muffled growl from the bathroom and Stiles squeaked, drawing straight and jerking his gaze around to make sure Derek wasn't going to come barreling out and kill him. Thankfully he didn't. Sighing in relief, Stiles relaxed just a bit, and turned to look down the hall. Where every fucking one was standing.

 

Scott and Liam looked far too amused for their own good, Liam even more so because the little shit probably knew what Stiles had really been trying to do. Kira was trying to hide her smile in Scott's shoulder, but it wasn't really happening. Braeden was standing with her arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised, and Lydia was just staring at him like he was the most pathetic thing on the face of the earth. And Malia? Malia was eyeing him a bit too intensely.

 

Stiles threw up his arms, pointing at all of them with a glare. "Not a damn word!" He yelped, pushing through them into the living room. He slumped down on the couch, covering his face with his hands.

 

"So...I guess I'm still in the lead, then?" Liam said somewhere from his right.

 

Stiles gave a dry, humorless laugh, not bothering to look. "Shut it."

 

"Dude, I'm with Derek, what were you thinking?"

 

Stiles glared at Scott as he sat down beside him. "I was thinking of pranking Liam, of course! I just didn't know Derek was in there. Now, for the love of God, can we please forget about this!" 

 

"As someone whose seen all that." Braeden arched a brow, pointing a thumb over her shoulder back towards the bathroom. "I don't think you'll be forgetting anytime soon."

 

The room erupted in groans, and Stiles resisted the urge to bury his head into the couch, his cheeks burning hotly. Because, yeah. Holy fucking shit  _yeah_. She was so true. And Stiles really couldn't let himself think about how incredibly amazing Derek had looked naked, or he was going to have a very big and very obvious problem. Speaking of big....NO! He wasn't doing it!

 

Malia came over to sit on the arm of the couch, wrapping an arm around his shoulder with a smirk. "It's okay. Besides, Derek's used to being naked, right? Full wolf and all that? I bet he doesn't care."

 

If anything that only made it worse. Because now all Stiles could think about was the fact that Derek could possibly be okay with parading around naked in front of him. Should he ask? Seriously if he asked would Derek just strip? Was it that natural a thing for him? 

 

But it didn't matter! Stiles was supposed to be trying to hide the fact that he was in love with Derek, not broad cast it. He cleared his throat, shrugging a little. "Anyway. We going to talk about what happened with you and Braeden?"

 

"Shouldn't we wait for -" Lydia began but then drew off when the bathroom door swung open and then Derek was stomping out in all his scowly greatness, hair damp and sticking slightly to his face. Stiles jerked his gaze away before their eyes could meet, and slumped a little more into the couch.

 

"Well I guess we'll get started then." Braeden moved to stand at the head of the group, her arms still over her chest and her entire persona screaming 'I'm a badass'. Stiles was kind of jealous by how easily she could pull it off. "We think the Desert Wolf's jumped states again. Our last lead say's that she's in Washington State."

 

Stiles perked up, looking up at Malia. She looked a bit crestfallen, but nowhere near as bothered by the news as Stiles would have thought.

 

"So you didn't make any kind of contact?" Scott spoke up.

 

Breaeden shook her head. "No. We stumbled across a few of her messes, though." She pulled out her phone and proceeded to show them all photo's of...what could only be a massacre. Stiles flinched at the blood and gore, once again turning to look at Malia to make sure she was alright. "So far we've found no real connections between any of her victims. As far as well can tell, she's nothing more than a gun for hire."

 

"The victims, were they all..."

 

"Supernatural?" Braeden nodded. "Yeah. It appear's it's the only jobs she does take. So, we at least know that she's got some kind of grudge against supernatural creatures."

 

Stiles shook his head, frowning. "But that makes no sense. She's a werecoyote."

 

Braeden shrugged, looking like she really didn't care one way or another. "Doesn't mean she can't hold grudges. Maybe it's a personal vendetta. I don't know. All I do know is that when we got to the last slaughter, we found someone still alive. He told us that after she had killed his pack and was cleaning up any evidence to lead back to her, that she got a phone call. Apparently it was another job. The guy heard her say something about Tacoma before she left."

 

"Is he okay?" Kira asked, talking about the man.

 

Braeden sighed, sliding her phone back in her pocket. "He died right after he told us. There was nothing we could do."

 

"So what...you're just going to give up?" Stiles glanced back and forth between Braeden and Malia.

 

It was Malia that answered. "After being out there...seeing what she's done...I don't want to know anymore." Her eyes were dark and chaotic, and Stiles laid a hand on her thigh, squeezing. "She's...she's not good, Stiles."

 

Stiles sighed, nodding his head. "Okay. Well you're back where you belong now, right?"

 

The smile Malia gave him was brighter than the sun. He had missed her, and he didn't realize how much until now. Strangely enough, he didn't feel any type of romantic attachment to her, but she had always been a friend above all else and Stiles was glad to have her back.

 

"He's right. You're with your pack now." Scott said, standing to walk over and curve his hand along the back of her neck. Malia smiled up at him, nodding.

 

"Yeah, I'm glad to be back."

 

The rest of the night was spent eating way too much pizza and watching incredibly bad horror movies. Stiles for once gave in and agreed to stay, but Scott stayed constantly at his side, as if he thought Stiles would bolt at any minute. And honestly, he kind of wanted to.

 

Derek and Braeden had moved upstairs after the first movie, doing gods know what, but the wolf would come down the spiral staircase every once in a while to head to the kitchen or just stand and watch over them all, and Stiles couldn't help but glance over at him each time. 

 

The few times that their eyes did meet, it was like a shock to his system, and Stiles hated the way his heart sped up and his hands twitched. He had to get a grip. If he wasn't careful then he'd give himself away. 

 

Eventually everyone started heading out. Lydia offered to drop Liam off at his house, and Scott and Kira headed out to see a late movie. Malia had asked to go back to his house and see his dad, and Stiles was glad for the company, because if he had just went home alone it would have mostly ended up with him locking himself in his room and having a very awkward/hot moment in which he jacked off to the thought of Derek naked.

 

As they were on their way out, though, Derek called his name.

 

Stiles licked his lips nervously, turning around to look at the man. He stood there, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs spread. Stiles resisted the urge to lazily scan every inch of him even as his heart sped up in his chest. "Yeah?"

 

"We need to talk."

 

He cringed, glancing back at Malia for help but she was just watching with an arched brow. "Uh...listen about earlier -"

 

"No you idiot!" Derek sighed, pushing off of the wall. "I mean...we just need to talk."

 

Stiles watched him a moment before nodding, and Malia moved from behind him to take a seat at the couch, looking at him in an 'I'll be here' way. He nodded and then followed Derek to the kitchen, not really knowing why the guy had even bothered considering that Malia would be able to hear them anyways.

 

"So..."

 

Derek turned to him, his gaze searching with blatant intensity and Stiles twitched at the attention. "You going to tell me why you've been avoiding me?"

 

Oh. Stiles had not been expecting that. At all. He rubbed at the back of his neck, shifting from foot to foot as he stared at the ground. "Uh..I haven't?" 

 

Derek just stared dryly at his pathetic excuse for a lie. "Stiles."

 

He let out a huff, throwing his hands up with a shrug. "Look, it's not a big deal, okay? I just..I needed some time to myself after everything that had happened. I had a lot to think about, alright?"

 

"After everything that had happened." Derek copied him. "Which you still haven't really explained."

 

Stiles sucked his teeth, bobbing his head. "Yup. Don't intend to either."

 

They were both silent a moment, before Derek released a soft sigh and dropped his arms at his side. The gaze he turned to Stiles was surprisingly open and...worried. "Look, I don't know if I did something to piss you off again or not, but...I just thought after everything that happened we were..." He drew off with a shrug.

 

Stiles frowned at him, suddenly incredibly irritated. "We were what, Derek?" Because seriously, what had he been about to say?

 

"We were friends!" Derek finally spit out, looking slightly red, as if he were embarrassed to even say the word.  

 

Stiles froze, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening a bit. Friends. Derek had just called him his friend. Something hot and happy blossomed smoothly within him, and Stiles had to control the urge to smile as well as blush like an idiot. He cleared his throat, staring down at the floor again. "Uh, yeah. We are, Derek. Friends, I mean."

 

Derek snorted, arching a brow. "Are you sure? Because you've been ignoring me the past week."

 

Stiles felt like an idiot. A big huge mean idiot. "Okay maybe I have. It's just...I've got a lot of stuff going on with me right now, you know." He glanced up at Derek, knowing that the wolf would hear the honestly in his voice. "I just felt like I needed to be alone to sort some stuff out. That's all."

 

They looked at each other a long moment, and finally Derek nodded. "Okay."

 

Okay? Just like that? Stiles squinted in suspicious confusion, cocking his head. "Seriously? You're not going to like be more persistent?"

 

Derek rolled his eyes, beginning to walk through the kitchen back towards the living room. "You're not a child, Stiles. Not anymore. You're capable of making your own decisions."

 

 _Holy shit._  Had Derek Hale just admitted that Stiles wasn't a kid? That was...that was fucking huge. For a minute he couldn't do anything more than just stand there and blink, before finally getting his legs into gear and stumbling after the man. "Dude I didn't even think you knew I had turned eighteen."

 

Derek glanced over his shoulder to look at him. "I heard you tell Deaton last week."

 

Oh. Well that explained it.

 

He glanced over at Malia on the couch, who once again had a deep frown on her face, and was watching Stiles like she was looking for something. Stiles cleared his throat, jerking his thumb towards the door. "You ready to go?"

 

She nodded and stood, nodding goodbye to Derek before heading out before Stiles. Stiles couldn't help it. He glanced back at Derek before he followed, and found the man watching him. Giving a shaky smile he left the loft.

 

 

********************************************

 

 

John was sitting at the kitchen table when they entered, still in his uniform and sipping coffee. He stood as soon as he spotted them and then Malia rushed past him, going in for a hug that was no doubt a bit on the crushing side from the way his father's face got slightly scrunched. Stiles smiled at them as he took a seat, watching his dad fuss over Malia and ask her when she had got back.

 

He glanced down at a manila folder on the table and flipped it open, frowning down at a photo of a dead dear. In fact, there were a few photos of various dead animals. Ranging from deer to rabbits, to dogs and cats. There was even a cow and a few horses. "Dad, what's these?"

 

The Sheriff swore sharply before jerking the folder away from Stiles, giving him a chiding stare. "Something you aren't supposed to be looking at." He grumbled.

 

"Is something killing animals?" Stiles asked, his interest peaked.

 

The Sheriff glared at him a long moment before finally giving in, slumping down into a chair and opening up the folder again. "Yeah. There's been eight killings in the past week and a half. We have no idea what's doing it."

 

"They don't look very...dead." Malia said, glancing over John's shoulder at the photo's.

 

The Sheriff nodded. "That's because they died from blood loss."

 

Stiles ached a brow, sitting up a little straighter. "Blood loss? Really? Are there any puncture marks?"

 

His dad nodded, fishing around for a photo before sliding it in front of Stiles. It was of the cow. There were four large looking puncture marks that went deep into it's belly. Stiles cringed. "What the hell...what is that from?"

 

"We have no idea." John said with a sigh. "No animal matches the M.O. At this point it's more likely to be a person."

 

"Unless it's something else." Stiles said, looking up at his dad.

 

The man frowned a moment before realization struck, and he groaned, laying his forehead on his hand. "Seriously?"

 

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know, but it could be. And it's a little too weird."

 

"Fine." He pushed the folder and photo's over towards Stiles. "I have copies. Just...see if you guys can figure out anything."

 

Stiles grinned a little too brightly, and even felt bad. Cause there was something out there killing poor innocent animals, after all. But he couldn't help but feel a bit of a thrill at the prospect of research and finding out what was doing it. "No problem, Daddy-O. We've got your back. I'll talk with everyone tomorrow and see what we can come up with."

 

His dad shook his head, standing. "I'm going to bed. You kid's don't stay up too late, okay?"

 

Stiles bobbed his head vaguely, not really paying attention. There was a new monster in Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if for some reason the vid didn't work, here's the link! https://youtu.be/0cxAtKsETKs


	2. Heart Felt Conversations & Bad Touch Monsters

Derek watched Braeden move around his loft, his arms crossed over his chest and wearing an arched brow. As she moved she skimmed her hands along the pieces of furniture, the TV mounted on the wall, every once in a while casting a little smirk his way that Derek chose to ignore. Not that it would do him any good. He knew Braeden well, most likely more so than she would like. He knew that once she had something on her mind she wasn't the type to just let it go. So he just stood there, waiting. Not the least bit impatient because he had a feeling that when she did speak, it was going to be about things that he wasn't quite comfortable talking about.

 

"So, Derek....I see you've given the loft a makeover since I've last stopped by."

 

Yup. There it was. He rolled his eyes; turning to start up the coffee maker that he had decided to buy spur of the moment. It wasn't like the caffeine did much to him anyways; he just kind of liked the taste of it. It wasn't like it had anything to do with the fact that most of the visitors of the loft drank the stuff religiously. "You're not that coy, you know." He muttered as he busied himself pulling down two mugs.

 

"And neither are you." Braeden leaned against the opening to the kitchen with her brows rose, a little smirk on her face. "Don't get me wrong, but I always pegged you for the type that didn't really settle."

 

"I'm not." Derek drew out darkly.

 

"Mm-hmm. You do realize purchasing actual furniture kind of say's otherwise, right? Hell, even your bed's not downstairs anymore."

 

Derek couldn't help it; he turned a wicked grin to her. "You sound awfully worried about my bed, Braeden."

 

The bounty hunter laughed, shaking her head and leaning a little more heavily against the wall frame, eyeing him with the same level of smugness. "It's not nice to flirt unless you mean it, Derek."

 

Derek turned away at that, glaring at his coffee maker. They had stopped sleeping together the last two months of their time together searching for the Desert Wolf, but Braeden had continuously tried her hardest to get back into his pants at every turn. Derek would have been a little prideful if it weren't for the fact that he was pretty sure the woman just wasn't used to being rejected. "It's just a few pieces of furniture, Braeden."

 

She laughed like he had just said something amusing, when he really hadn't. "Derek, the bed, the furniture, the  _coffee maker_..." She moved through the kitchen to begin opening cabinets, gesturing to the food actually stocked within. "This! This is not you! Or at least it wasn't before. Derek this isn't just your 'loft' anymore. This is a  _home._ "

 

Derek drew tense, stilling. Something was coiling tight in his belly and suddenly he just wanted to shed his human skin and run.

 

"You're not planning on leaving again, are you?” She asked, but it really wasn’t a question.

 

He licked suddenly dry lips, staring down at the steady drip of black liquid from the machine below him. Suddenly he felt completely unsure of himself for the first time since coming back. His heart sped up and his muscles bunched. He looked over at Braeden, remembering their time on the road together. It had been good. Until it hadn't. And he wasn't even sure what point the change had happened, all he knew was one day he woke up and decided he needed to be back in Beacon Hills. And that was the thing, he had  _needed_  to be there, and that made no sense to him whatsoever. He had never felt the pull of the town, not since the fire. But something had tugged him back with maddening intensity and now here he was. And so far, things had been surprisingly easy. It was a little unnerving, actually. Aside from the minor blimp in his radar between him and Stiles when he had first gotten back, things were actually  _good_. Derek was good. He was...at peace.

 

The thought was so new that it filled him with dread instead of content. Suddenly the surging in his veins was too much to bear and he needed to do something or he felt like he was going to go a little crazy. So, he strode over to Braeden, lifted her up into his arms until her legs were curled around his waist, and then kissed her. Her soft moan filled his mouth beautifully, and he swallowed them up greedily, desperate to feel something other than the overwhelming fear clouding his system. He stumbled into the living room with her, and then onto the couch. 

 

The great thing about Braeden was that she was a no strings attached kind of girl. And that fit him perfectly. 

 

 

*********************************

 

 

 He woke up to the sound of impatient banging on the loft door. Derek rolled over in his bed with a growl, already knowing who it was from the telling fast paced heart beat echoing in his ears.

 

“Who the hell is that?” Braeden groaned beside him, shoving a pillow over her ear.

 

“Stiles.” Derek growled, and Braeden sighed like that explained everything. Derek guessed it kind of did. He forced himself to roll out of bed and stumbled over to his dresser, ripping out a pair of thin sweats and stepping into them, almost tripping in his annoyance. He heard Braeden chuckle from the bed and shot her a glare before hurrying down the spiral stairs to the main floor so he could get stop that damned banging before he killed Stiles.

 

He jerked the door open with one hard pull, and stared dryly at Stiles, who stood on the other side, fist still raised with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

 

“Jesus, Sourwolf, took you long en-“ Stiles drew off suddenly, his brows stretching a little higher as his eyes flitted downwards and scanned Derek’s half naked body.

 

Derek gave an inward sigh, trying to remind himself that he didn’t slam Stiles face into things anymore. Like the door. Derek was no fool, he knew how he looked, and he knew how people reacted to that. It was a pretty normal reaction to automatically look whenever someone had their shirt off. It just _happened_ , so he didn’t blame Stiles too much for his complete derail of thoughts. When a few seconds had ticked by though, and Stiles was still staring, he did clear his throat.

 

Stiles jerked visibly, like he had been hit almost, and Derek watched with a bit of satisfaction as his face shot blood red and embarrassment laid heavy in his scent. He repressed his smirk though. He could never let Stiles know that he actually enjoyed messing with him. He’d never hear the end of it.

 

“Stiles, what are you doing here?”

 

There was some shuffling from behind Stiles and Derek glanced up, blinking in surprise when he saw that Malia was standing there as well. What? How the hell had he not saw her? How the hell had he not _heard_ her? Or smelled her for that matter.

 

“Uh, I…I mean I sent out a group text…did you…” Stiles shuffled awkwardly on his feet, drawing Derek’s attention back to him, and after a moment he just rolled his eyes and stepped away from the door to allow them through.

 

“I haven’t checked my phone yet.” Derek said, heading to the kitchen to make him some of the coffee he hadn’t drunk last night. He pulled down another cup almost automatically and filled it as well, taking a sip of his black as he opened the fridge and pulled out some of the disgusting creamer his younger comrades seemed to enjoy. He poured some into the cup and stirred it with a spoon, then held it out to Stiles who had come to stand awkwardly in the entrance of the kitchen.

 

Stiles stared down at the cup a long moment, his face getting even redder, and it was so embarrassing that Derek felt close to blushing himself. He sighed and pushed the mug into Stiles hands, trying not to think about the fact that he had made it in the first place like it was second nature. He glanced up at Malia then, finding her watching them with her brows slightly furrowed. “Do you want some?”

 

Malia shook her head. “You got any soda, though?”

 

Derek nodded and jerked his head back towards the fridge. Malia hesitated a moment before moving past him to retrieve a can. “So, what was the group text about?”

 

Stiles nodded, seemingly eager to get back on task and shuffled a little further into the kitchen, setting the coffee down on the counter beside Derek before retrieving a brown manila folder that he had sandwiched between his arm and side. He cleared his throat, sitting it on the counter and Derek turned to look down at it as Stiles opened it.

 

“Something’s attacking animals. It started out as wildlife in the preserve, but now it’s moving to town and getting pet’s.”

 

Derek frowned, staring down at the photos of dead animals and searching their bodies for any type of marks. “How are they being killed?”

 

Stiles bobbed his head and grinned a little, almost like he was proud of Derek for noticing the lack of obvious gore of an attack, and Derek tried not to feel a swell of satisfaction at that. “Blood loss.” Stiles said, turning his pale whiskey colored eyes up at Derek. “Whatever is killing them is drinking their blood.”

 

Derek arches a brow, staring down as Stiles shuffles through the photos, his long, slender fingers brushing against each surface almost like a caress. Derek can’t help but stare down at his hands, thinking how manly they actually looked. He cut his eyes up, studying Stiles forearm and the dark hair dusting its skin. His gaze traveled to a bicep that was surprisingly tone, and then to his shoulders, which were wide and filled out. He looked back at the photos with a frown. When had Stiles gotten so…grown up? Had he always been like this and Derek just hadn’t paid attention? He can’t help but try to pull at his memory, and came to a night years ago when they had both been trapped at the school with the Kanima. He remembered how small Stiles had appeared in his red track suit. Remembered the _frailty_ Derek had felt when he had pushed Stiles away, his hand on thin his chest.

 

“Here, you can see the puncture wounds the clearest on this one.” Stiles said, and for the first time Derek noticed just how deep his voice really was. He looked down vaguely at the photo, seeing four puncture wounds, the outer two wider than the inner. “My dad said that they can’t match up any animal that could be doing this, which means that it’s got to be something supernatural.”  

 

Stiles looked up at him against with expectant eyes and Derek frowned at the way his dark lashes framed his eyes and made them seem even more golden than they really were. Almost like a wolf’s. His gaze searched Stiles face a second, noticing that his cheek’s had thinned out a bit, his bones a little more prominent. He looked past pink lips that always seemed to be moving to his jaw, and for some reason Derek found himself taken aback by the sight of slight stubble there. Nothing close to an actual beard, just a night’s growth and lack of a morning shave. And suddenly all Derek could think about was Stiles shaving. It was such a dumb thought, but for some reason, more than anything else, it was what made Derek realize that Stiles wasn’t really a kid anymore. He may not be a full man, but he was on the threshold.

 

“Derek?”

 

Derek was jolted out of his thoughts, and found Stiles looking up at him questionably. He cleared his throat and nodded, running his hand though his hair a bit. “You’re right. It’s more than likely something supernatural. Have any of you took a look at the bestiary?”

 

Stiles at him a moment before turning to glance behind Derek’s shoulder. “You still got the USB, Malia?”

 

Derek twisted around with wide eyes, because holy fucking shit he had forgotten about Malia again. What was wrong with him?!

 

Malia nodded, pulling the little drive out of her pocket and flashing it to them. Derek noticed that her eyes kept drifting sideways to him, a deeply intense frown on her face, and the look reminded him so much of Peter that he had to look away.

 

“Awesome. Me and Lydia transferred the Bestiary to USB to make it a little more easy to carry around, you know?” Stiles walked over to the table and took it from Malia, before glancing at Derek again. “Tell me you’ve got a laptop here.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes but nodded. He pushed away from the counter and headed upstairs to grab it, trying not to think too much on his own odd behavior.

 

 

**********************

 

 

Stiles watched Derek walk away and nearly let out a sigh of relief. He did scrub a hand over his face though, and retrieved his coffee to take a long gulp. What the hell was up with the guy? He had all but been eyeballing Stiles, which would have been awesome if it weren’t for the fact that Stiles knew Derek wasn’t interested in him like that. It had taken every ounce of control and calm breathing Stiles had to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest and more importantly his dick to stay at bay.

 

He fished out his phone and checked the time, glad to see that Scott and the others would be there soon. He wasn’t sure if he could stand being alone with Derek anymore. Not that they were actually alone, but Malia had never been one to fully engage in a conversation, and sometimes her presence faded into the background. He glanced up at her, finding her staring down at her fingertips as she made them grow into claws and back, a bored expression on her face. Staring at those claws he couldn’t help but tense a little. He had been at the end of their ‘worship’ for a long while, and couldn’t help but feel grateful that he no longer was. It wasn’t like Malia deliberately tried to hurt him or anything; she just didn’t always have the best control when her emotions were…high. And Stiles should not feel so proud of himself about that, but yeah he totally did.

 

A moment later Derek was making his way down the stairs with a laptop tucked under his arm, and Stiles was glad to see that he had put a shirt on. Not that it mattered much, the man’s muscles were so evolved that they showed through regardless. He glanced up then when someone else began to descent the stairs, and felt his stomach drop when he saw Braeden.  He wasn’t sure why but he hadn’t expected her to be there. But it made sense that she would. She and Derek were probably doing whatever it was they did again. That dating but not quite dating.

 

He turned and refilled his coffee, trying to keep his fingers from shaking.

 

“Hey Malia, Stiles.” Braeden drew out as she came into the kitchen and took down a coffee cup from a cabinet.

 

Stiles gave what he hoped was a satisfactory grin and moved out of her way so she could make herself some coffee.

 

“When is everyone else getting here?” Derek asked, sitting his laptop on the table and powering it up.

 

Stiles chose to stay leaning against the counter. “In just a few minutes. Sorry about everyone just showing up. I thought you would have read my text.”

 

“No it’s fine. This is important. I was just busy.” Derek glanced up at Braeden, and Braeden gave him a cocky grin, and oh god Stiles did not have to see that.

 

He cleared his throat, nodding. “Oh, yeah. Totally. I get that. I mean I’m busy, too. Very busy. All the time.” Jesus Christ what was he doing?

 

Derek just stared at him with an arched brow before shaking his head and moving to retrieve his coffee from the counter. Stiles slid out of his way, maybe a bit more dramatically than needed because Derek frowned down at him a second before looking away.

 

“Well I might as well take a shower before everyone gets here, then.” Braeden said with a sigh, sitting her coffee cup down. She moved to Derek then, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him long and deep.

 

Stiles stood frozen, watching the sight with wide eyes a moment before he couldn’t take it anymore and he looked away. As he did, though, he caught Malia watching him, and the look in her eyes made him want to draw in on himself and just disappear. Instead he cleared his throat and made his way over to the table, taking a seat beside her. Malia continued to watch him in silence before scooting her chair closer, and then laying a hand on his knee. Stiles looked up at her in slight surprise, finding her smiling softly at him, and he grinned back, squeezing her hand before sliding the USB across the table near the laptop.

 

A moment later Derek was sitting down again, though Stiles noticed that he seemed to be making a point of not looking up at them. Maybe he was embarrassed. Stiles had never really seen him be affectionate with anyone after all. But good for him if he was trying. Even though it sucked considerably for Stiles, there was a part of him that was glad Derek seemed to be doing better.

 

Stiles was used to unrelieved love. Hell he was the King of that shit. He had gotten over Lydia, and he would get over Derek, too. It’s just...the time between was going to hurt.

 

 

 

****************************

 

“Okay.” Stiles spread out the map of the preserve on the table, chewing on the back of his highlighter as his eyes scanned the slightly age stained paper. “From what we’ve gathered we’re going on the belief that this thing has made home base in the preserve, right?”

 

Derek nodded, moving to stand beside Stiles while Scott shifted to his other side. He leaned forward and scanned the map. “We just have to figure out where.”

 

Braeden moved forward, her hands crossed over her chest as she frowned down at the paper. “How the hell are we supposed to do that? The preserve isn’t exactly easy walking ground.”

 

“Well if we could narrow down the list of creatures more, we could have a better understanding.” Lydia sing songed from her place on the couch, staring at the laptop in her lap.

 

Derek nodded, because yeah she had a point. They had been going through the bestiary and books for hours now, and had narrowed it down to ten possible supernatural creatures. Ten. Seemed like drinking blood was a fairly normal occurrence in the supernatural world.  

 

Stiles scoffed beside Derek, annoyance and weariness mixing strongly with his scent. “Well, Lydia, if we had a little more to go on, then yeah. But unfortunately no one’s seen any glimpse of this thing and all we have are four puncture wounds on the carcasses.  Besides, I still think it’s a Lamia”

 

The group shared collective groans, and Stiles threw his arms up with a cry, nearly smacking Derek in the face and he moved away with a sigh.

 

“Stiles, just because you want to see a naked snake lady doesn’t mean it’s a Lamia.” Malia said what pretty much everyone had been thinking.

 

Stiles just glared, poking his bottom lip out and Derek stared at it a moment before looking away. “Hey! I don’t just want to see a naked snake lady, alright!”

 

“Did he even notice he said ‘just’?” Liam muttered, making a few people snort.

 

Derek sighed, growing tired of the constant bickering. “Alright! This is serious, we need to figure out a plan.” He reached over and grabbed the highlighter out of Stiles mouth, and Stiles was so caught off guard and the cap stayed firmly between his teeth. His eyes widened a bit before he spit the cap down into his hand and wiped it very carefully on his shirt, sitting it near Derek’s hand with a weak apologetic grin. Derek rolled his eyes at him and leaned forward, making a few places on the map. “Whatever this thing is, it’s got to be taking shelter somewhere out there. Which means we should check out – “

 

“Caves.” Stiles mutters, and this time his grin is more real as he leans forward eagerly, nodding at the markings. “He’s totally right.”

 

“These are just a few I know of.” Derek offered, glancing up at everyone who had come to look. “We should split up into groups. At least people people in one. We don’t know exactly what this thing is yet and we don’t want to underestimate it.”

 

“I’ll go with Scott!” Kira chirps instantly, nearly jumping on her feet. Scott grins like an idiot and nods.

 

“I’ll go with Liam.”

 

Derek hears Malia say, and he can’t help but pause. He looks up and notices that Stiles is looking at Malia as well, his expression a bit confused. Liam frowns a moment, clearly not expecting Malia to want to buddy with him, and then just shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

 

“I guess that leaves me with Stiles.” Lydia say’s and Derek can detect the sigh in her voice. He can’t help but feel a little bad for Stiles.

 

“Wait, do you think that’s a good idea?” Braeden asks suddenly, and Derek turns to her. “I mean, having Stiles and Lydia together? Don’t you think it’s a little risky?”

 

Derek understands what she mean’s immediately. Stiles was only human, and though Lydia was a Banshee she didn’t have full control of her powers, so in a fight she wouldn’t be much of an opponent either. “She’s right. You two are useless together.” Stiles balk’s beside him, and even Lydia shoot’s him a glare. He realized that had sounded a lot worse than he had meant, but it was true. “You know I’m right.” He drew out with a sigh.

 

“I’ll go with Lydia.” Braeden offers.

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/tumblr_inline_nc5gwp8Ygp1qik2ew_zpsqxa1yvqm.gif.html)

 

 

 

Derek nods, and then pauses, because if Lydia was going with Braeden then that meant…He turned to Stiles, who was staring down at the map again. “What about you?” He wasn’t even sure why he was asking when it was obvious what the only alternative was.

 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/tumblr_nsgzfhneP71uybqsno1_500_zpshmzj8nvv.gif.html)

 

 

 

 

Stiles draws his shoulders in a shrug. “I guess I’ll just team up with Scotty –Boy.” He says in an easy manner, yet there’s a certain tenseness to his body that Derek can see.

 

Scott frowns beside him. “But Kira is going with me. We’re supposed to be teams of two, Stiles.”

 

Derek isn’t so sure when Scott had started following orders so well, but he kind of wished he had been the same in the beginning, when he had first been bitten. It would have made things so much easier.

 

“Scott, come on man. It doesn’t matter.” Stiles said, and this time Derek could detect a sort of biting edge under his tone.

 

Scott rolled his eyes. “Just go with Derek, dude! Stop being a baby.”

 

Stiles chokes on air a moment, blinking rapidly before mumbling something under his breath and nodding his head. He lowers his hands to the table with a sigh. “Fine. Alright. So, yeah. I’ll just be going with Derek. Over here. Hey there, Big Guy…”

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/tumblr_n6ptyruuV91qdeig5o1_r1_500_zpswlktg6wx.gif.html)

 

 

Derek’s lips twist slightly and his brow furrows. Stiles smacks his lips and nods, turning away again.

 

“Well, now that that’s settled, when are we heading out?” Braeden asked.

 

“We should do it while we still have daylight.” Derek popped the highlighter lid back on. “If this thing is nocturnal there’s a chance we can catch it while it’s at its weakest.”

 

“Good idea.” Scott moved from the table to sling his arm around Kira’s shoulder. Why don’t we all meet up again at the preserve in about an hour? Just in case any of us have anything to prepare?”

 

There were nods of agreement and Derek folded the map. “Stiles, Lydia, you guys should probably bring some kind of weapon. We don’t know what this thing is yet, but it’s better than going in there alone.” 

Derek cast his gaze around at everyone in the loft. According to Scott nothing bad had happened in Beacon Hills while he had been gone, so that meant the town had gone seven month’s without a threat. Despite that, Derek couldn’t help but notice that everyone had easily slipped back into their ‘fighters mode’, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Either way, it said something about who they were, and what they all had been though. And though once upon a time he had wanted nothing more than to get away from the town, at that moment he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

 

 

*************************

 

 

“Scott, man, what the hell was that?!” Stiles hissed as he burst out of the building and his shoes hit the pavement. Malia trailed him, squinting up at the sun as it glared down at them.

 

Scott twisted around to look at Stiles with a frown, pausing as he made to put on his motorcycle helmet. “What?”

 

Stiles sucked his teeth and stomped over to him, speaking in a harsh whisper so he didn’t draw attention from the rest of the pack that were heading to their cars. “Dude you totally bailed on me in there!”

 

Scott frowned a moment longer before realization struck and he sighed, handing Kira her helmet as she situated herself behind him on the bike. “Is this about the group thing?”

 

Stiles threw up his hands with an exasperated sound.

 

Scott rolled his eyes before slipping his helmet on. “Dude, I thought you weren’t mad at Derek anymore.”

 

“I’m not!” Stiles hissed, aware of Scott, Kira and even Malia eyeing him with doubt. He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Dude, seriously. I’m not.”

 

Scott clipped his helmet on and revved up the clutch. “Look, I don’t know why you’re still pissed at him, but you guys need to figure it out, so it’s good that the two of you will be stuck together. Just…try not to annoy him too much, alright? I don’t want you both getting eaten or something.” And with a pointed look and little grinning wave from Kira, they were both speeding away.

 

Stiles glared at the retreating bike before shaking his head and heading for his Jeep. He was an anxious mess and couldn’t stop the constant movement of his limbs. After Malia had gotten in he cranked up the engine and started to pull out onto the street. “So.” He started. “You’re not going to say anything?”

 

Malia looked at him, her lips pursed in though a moment before shrugging. “I don’t really care if you’re fighting with Derek.”

 

Stiles tsked, scrubbing at his mouth before drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel. “We aren’t fighting! How many times do I have to say that?”

 

Malia nodded, seeming to be thinking a moment. “But are you mad at him?”

 

Stiles glanced over at her, checking her mildly curious expression before turning his eyes back to the road. “No. Yes. Not exactly. Jesus, I don’t know. I think I want to be.”

 

“Why?” She sounded just as confused as Stiles felt. “Why would you want to be mad at him?”

 

How the hell did he answer that? _Because if I’m mad at him maybe I won’t love him as much?_ Yeah. No way in hell he could say _that_. He was trying his best to keep his feelings for the annoying grumpy wolf hidden from everyone, and Stiles knew if the pack found out – especially Scott – then Derek would eventually know as well. And that? That fucking terrified him. As much as he liked to pretend otherwise, a part of him _needed_ Derek. His presence was like a calming balm on Stiles own shredded soul. It made the horrors of his past drift faintly into the background instead of a constant waking nightmare. Stiles knew it had something to do with the fact that Derek’s own past was tainted with darkness, and to see the man still up and kicking in a way gave Stiles motivation. Not that Derek was completely unscathed. Often times Stiles could see the ghost of his past lingering on his expressions. The hanging of his head and the slump of his shoulders, and honestly it fucking broke Stiles heart.

 

“Look, can we just…talk about something else?” Stiles asked with a sigh, glancing over at Malia with an almost pleading expression.

 

Malia studied him a moment – far too long, before finally nodding, and Stiles almost sighed in relief. She scooted a little closer towards him in her seat and reached out to lay her hand on his thigh, and Stiles couldn’t help but stare down at it with a frown. A slight nervousness pooled in his belly, and he tried to tell himself that it was nothing more than Malia being friendly.

 

 

*******************

 

 

The sun was still high on the horizon when they entered the preserve. Stiles heaved a long drawn out sigh when he parked next to Derek’s Toyota, staring out his window and looking eyes with Derek who was still sitting behind the wheel. His head was turned and he was talking to Braeden. Stiles gnawed on his lower lips and unbuckled himself, glancing over as Malia hopped out and all but slammed the door. He frowned, a little confused by all her mixed signals lately. Chalking it up to him just not understanding girls he turned to open his door and glanced up again, this time locking eyes with Derek. Feeling annoyed at his own desire to look away Stiles just narrowed his eyes and held his gaze. Derek’s brow rose slightly but other than that the man just continued to stare at him.

 

So they sat there and stared at each other. Stiles was sure that at this point it had become a battle of some sorts, and he really wasn’t in the losing mood. He wasn’t sure how long the little staring contest would have lasted, but it was interrupted by Braeden moving between the vehicles, passing through. Stiles jolted slightly, haven not even noticed that the woman had gotten out of Derek’s car. When she had passed his gaze flitted back to Derek but the wolf wasn’t looking at him now, only letting himself out of his car and walking away with tense shoulders. Stiles frowned at him before hoping out of the Jeep.

 

Everyone gathered into their respected groups, and after making sure they all had way to contact one another, they separated. Stiles had brought his baseball bat with him, and as he and Derek walked through the woods he swirled it in his hand in a bored manner, whistling under his breath to a Gwen Stefani song. Hey. Don’t judge. Gwen was a beast. Plus, any woman who could rope in Gavin Rosdale was alright in his book. Man was a sex god with a voice of velvet steel. Not that he had anything on Derek, of course. And then that train of thought suddenly made Stiles wonder if Derek could sing. What would his voice sound like? Would it be deep and soulful, brining tear’s to your eyes? Or sultry and seductive, like the man so easily oozed. Jesus this was a whole new level of pathetic, wasn’t it?

 

For all he knew Derek could have a singing voice that sounded like two cat’s mating. He couldn’t help but snort at that, and Derek cast him a small frown, a brow arched questionably. He shook his head with a grin, looking away. They walked in silence for a long while, and it was so uncomfortable and awkward that Stiles was very near to the point of bursting when finally Derek cleared his throat.

 

“You must be glad Malia’s back.”

 

Stiles turned to him with a bit of a frown. Derek was staring straight ahead, so he couldn’t really see what kind of expression he was wearing. “Yeah. Malia’s great. I mean yeah, she can be a little intense something’s.” He grinned. “Must be a Hale thing.”

 

Derek snorted softly at his side, his trained eyes taking in all corners of the preserve, looking for any sign of danger. “You seem to have fallen back into place though.”

 

He frowned. What was _that_ supposed to mean. “Uh, yeah. I guess?”

 

“It’s good that even though she’s been away for a while the two of you can be together again like she never left.”

 

 _What the fuck_? Stiles wasn’t aware that he had stopped walking until Derek was turning to look at him with a frown. He opened and closed his mouth a moment, trying to find words, before finally just letting out a loud and unintelligent, “Huh?!”

 

Derek’s frown deepened, his brows lowering to a scowl. “What?”

 

“Exactly, what?” Stiles near mimicked before letting out a short laugh. “Dude, we aren’t together anymore. She ended things when she left to go riding into the sunset with Braeden.” Okay. He had sounded a bit bitter. Just a tad.

 

Derek turned fully to him, his head tilted slightly and wearing a pinched, annoyed expression. “Stiles, I’m a werewolf. I know what I’m talking about. Are you forgetting that I can smell these things?”

 

He snorted loud, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the hell you’re smelling, but it ain’t happening, Sour Wolf. Malia and I are over.” He raised his brows at Derek before beginning to walk again, moving past the man and making him follow. “I mean, yeah, I’ll always love her, but it’s the same kind of love I feel for everyone else.” He frowned then, remembering the way Malia had been acting lately. “Though to be honest she has been throwing a lot of mixed signal’s my way.”

 

Derek released a growl behind him before he was at his side, walking at the same pace as him, and Stiles wondered if it bugged him for Stiles to be in the lead. Against his better judgement Stiles automatically thought about another way he could be in the ‘lead’, and had to quickly squash the rising lust down less he make a fool out of himself. Awkward boners in the woods were not a good thing.

 

“The two of you were good together, though.” At Stiles look Derek rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I’m just saying what everyone saw.”

 

Stiles was quiet a moment, chewing on his lips in thought. “Well everyone didn’t see everything.” He muttered. He instantly regretted it when Derek shot him a look that clearly said he wasn’t going to let it slide.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Stiles sighed, shrugging his shoulders and trying to appear as nonchalant as possible even though what he was going to say still really bothered him on a deep level. “I don’t think anyone really realizes this, but Malia and I first hooked up in Eichen House.”

 

Derek stilled beside him, nearly pausing in his step before beginning to walk again. The look on his face said it all, though.

 

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Exactly. Not the best way to start a relationship. And honestly we weren’t even in a relationship until a long time after that. It was just…” He drew off, staring down at the ground with sudden tiredness. “It shouldn’t have happened. It was a bad time for both of us and we were both just looking to actually _feel_ something again.” He dared to glance over at Derek, and found the man with an almost pained expression on his face and Stiles imagined that he knew exactly what that felt like. He had often wondered if he had turned to Kate because he just needed some sort of relief after what had happened to Paige, and now, seeing him like that, Stiles thought he had his answer.

 

“But anyway. It happened and there was no going back from that. If I’m being honest I felt more than a little guilty about everything. I felt like afterwards it was my responsibility to at least _try_ with her, you know? And I think she knew it. She never said anything, though.” Stiles looked at Derek again, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I didn’t actually end up having feelings for her, because I did. It’s just…it was rough. In the beginning. For both of us.” Don’t do it. Don’t say it he doesn’t need to know. “She had a lot of trouble with control after she first changed back to a human, you know? And a lot of the time when her emotions were high especially.” Fuck. There was no going back now. “I know she never did it deliberately or out of anger or anything like that, but sometimes… _during_ …she would lose control.”

 

Derek looked like he was going to be sick. The expression that came over his face was so pained that Stiles had to look away.

 

“I’ve got this one scar on my back from this one night where she went a little too deep.”

 

“Why the fuck didn’t you ever tell someone?!”

 

Stiles stumbled over his feet, turning wide eyes to Derek because he sounded absolutely _livid_. “Uh, I kind of did. I showed Scott once. I think he thought I was trying to show off or something, though, so…yeah.” Stiles unconsciously scooted a little closer to Derek, knocking his shoulder with his own. “It’s no big deal, dude. It’s not like my life was actually in danger. And hell, if I’m being honest after we got together the times we actually had sex weren’t that many.” He sighed, fiddling with his baseball bat again. “I think we both realized it wasn’t what we actually wanted. We just needed to be close with someone. And we were. Malia was a great girlfriend in that sense. Even though she did have a fascination with making me the little spoon.” He made a face. “I’m just not a little spoon kind of guy, Derek.”

 

Derek had gotten quiet beside him. Almost unnaturally so, but Stiles didn’t say anything. He was used to the guy being quiet, after all. He ran his tongue over his teeth and glanced up at the tree line, squinting at the rays of sun steaming through.

 

“You can’t tell anyone about this.” He said, eyes still skyward. “Especially not Scott. He’ll feel like he failed me or something.”

 

“I feel like I failed you.”

 

It was said so softly that Stiles nearly didn’t hear it. But by the time his ear’s had registered he was staring at Derek with wide eyes, his heart pounding alarmingly in his ribs. He opened his mouth, searching for words, but could find none. Because what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?! Derek had never been so open with his emotions – well he had, but not when they pertained specifically towards him, and it threw him off completely. Derek shifted uncomfortably beside him, and Stiles felt his eyes go bug wide when he noticed that the very tips of his ears were a faint shade of red. Holy fucking shit he was going to die. Derek Hale was blushing. Derek freaking Hale was actually blushing.  He could die happy.

 

“Why does it smell like you and Liam?”

 

“What?” The wolf’s words were so unexpected and different from his last that Stiles couldn’t grasp their meaning.

 

Derek shot him a glare and let out a exasperated huff. “Your and Liam’s scent is all over the preserve. Why?”

 

“Uh.” Stiles realized he was squeaking a bit and cleared his throat before trying again. “We go running through here a lot. About three times a week, actually.”

 

Derek arched a brow.

 

“What? We’re bro’s.”

 

“That’s not the part I’m finding hard to believe.”

 

Stiles’ confused frown turned into an unimpressed glare when he caught the wolf’s meaning. “Har har, laugh it up. Yes, Derek, I exercise. I quite like running, alright? Given how my life is I kind of _need_ to be good at it.”

 

Derek was quite a moment, before he cast a glance over at Stiles, his gaze flitting over his body and making Stiles nervous all over again. “You’ve changed since I’ve been gone.”

 

Stiles frowned, thinking about that and looking down at himself. He didn’t think he had. Not that much, at least. He looked at Derek then, their gazes holding. “So have you.” It felt like in that moment there was some unspoken thing happening between them, and Stiles’ heart pounded in his chest. Derek was looking at him in that way again, that way that said ‘ _I care_ ’, and it was doing horrible and amazing things to Stiles head, so when he found himself tripping over something on the forest floor, doing a complete and painful face plant, he was a little relieved, honestly. Relieved and hurt. Lots of hurt.

 

He groaned into the dirt, hearing Derek start to laugh at his back and the sound was so foreign that for a moment the pain was forgotten. He shuffled over to his back to get a look at the man’s face before that laughter died, but when he glanced down at whatever had tripped him suddenly his expression fell. Derek’s must have noticed it as well, because he stopped laughing and suddenly the air was heavy around them.

 

Stiles cringed and untangled his legs from the dead dog at his feet. He lifted a shaky hand and Derek surprisingly moved forward to help him stand, his touch warm and welcome. When he let go Stiles almost reached out to grab him again.

 

“So…do you think this means we’re close to its lair?”

 

Derek lifted his gaze from the dead dog and looked around with narrowed eyes. “The cave is close by. We could be.”

 

Stiles gave a soft groan. “Of all the chances, we’re the ones that just so happen to stumble across this thing. The universe hates me, I swear.”

 

“Quit complaining.” Derek grumbles, already walking again.

 

Stiles sighs and takes one look back at the dead dog before following after him, his bat clenched tight in his hand. “Derek what if it’s a vampire. Dude seriously what if we have to fight a vampire.”

 

“It’s not a vampire, Stiles.” Derek huff’s in annoyance.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Because vampires don’t drink animal blood, Stiles.”

 

“You know Louie drank rat’s blood, so I don’t know why you’re under that impression.”

 

Derek turned his head skyward like he was praying for guidance. “Stiles that is a movie. This is real life.”

 

“I know you, smart ass. I’m just saying what if it’s some like, totally guilt ridden vampire who hates being a vampire and he drink’s animal blood as a way to atone, you know?”

 

“It has nothing to do with that. Vampires _can’t_ drink animal blood, Stiles.”

 

He frowned at that. “For real? That’s a thing? Oh. That must suck.” He snorted then, amused at his own self. “Ha. Suck. Get it?”

 

Derek shot him a glare that said yeah, he got it, and no, he wasn’t amused.

 

Stiles blew out a puff of air and rolled his eyes. Jeez, why was he in love with this guy again? They walked in careful silence a little ways, both of their eyes scanning the woods and looking for any sign of life, before they finally found themselves stopping in front of the opening of a large, dark cave.

 

Stiles cringed at the sight of it, replaying every horror movie that he had ever seen in his mind. “Dude, why do I feel like if we go in there we’re never going to come out?”

 

“ _We’re_ not going in. I am.”

 

Stiles twisted around to him with a scoff. “What?! Dude that’s so not what we all agreed on. And you’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you go in there alone, so you can kiss my ass Big Guy.”

 

Derek scowled at him, looking like he was _this_ close to slamming Stiles against a tree or something, and Stiles pathetically would have been all for that. “Just stay close, and _shut up_.”

 

Stiles lifted his hand to zip his lips and made like he was tossing away a key, watching with a grin as Derek rolled his eyes before beginning to head towards the entrance of the cave. Stiles sucked in a deep breath to calm himself and lifted his bat, staying close to Derek’s back. Just outside of the entrance the _smell_ hit him. He bent slightly, slapping a hand to his nose in disgust. Jesus Christ what was that?! In front of him Derek nodded with a pinched face to say that he smelled it too, and of course he did, the dude was a werewolf.

 

The inside of the cave was dark, the light from outside not able to reach past the high, sloping ceiling, and Stiles squinted through the darkness, trying to make out what was around him. A few seconds in something began to crunch under his feet and he frowned, staring down at the ground but not able to see. Unable to take it anymore he pulled his phone from his back pocket and turned on the flash light, turning the glare of light downwards. He sucked in a sharp gasp, his eyes widening. “Der…”

 

Derek tensed slightly in front of him, most likely because of the nickname Stiles had used that he hadn’t heard since he had seen Cora, but then he was turning and staring down at the ground as well and his face pulled tight at the sight of the bones scattered around the cave floor. “I thought this thing only drank the blood of its victims.” Derek said softly.

 

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, so did I.” He looked up at Derek. “You getting anything so far?”

 

Derek frowned, glancing around him. “Just that it smells like rot and feces in here.”

 

“Obviously.” Stiles said, holding his wrist over his nose to stop from gagging. “You think this thing is further in?”

 

“It seems likely.” Derek muttered, turning to glance at where the cave drew deeper into the earth.

 

“You think we should call everyone else? Just in case?”

 

Derek nodded after a moment, turning back to look at him and then at the bones littering the ground. “Yeah. That seems best.”

 

Stiles nodded and moved to slide his phone back in his pocket, but a noise overhead made him pause. It was a slight _swish_ , like a shifting of some sort, and Derek seemed to hear it too because he froze, his eyes narrowing. Dread clenched at Stiles gut and he very slowly turned the phone, shining its light upwards, and his eyes followed the glare. Suddenly a large, screeching bat like face was directly in front of his own, and Stiles yelled, stumbling back at the sight of rows of razor sharp teeth. Derek swore loudly in front of him and grabbed him by the arm, running for the cave entrance. Stiles struggled to stay up, hearing more shifting above him and suddenly a large gust of air on his neck. He yelped and pushed his legs faster, the loud, animal like screech behind him closer than he would like.

 

They burst out into the forest and twisted around just in time to see an enormous creature that looked half man, half bat fly from the cave entrance. It had to be at least seven feet tall, and had a wingspan of at least twelve feet. Its body was covered in coarse brown fur, and it’s head had large pointed ear’s that looked just shy of dagger sharp and its teeth, holy god it’s teeth were like needles.

 

Stiles let out a holler as the thing swooped down towards them, and Derek grabbed him, rolling them to the ground just before the creature’s outstretched claws could make contact. The breath left his lungs as Derek settled heavily on top of him, and he stared over the wolf’s shoulders with wide eyes. “Holy God what the hell is that thing?!” He managed to choke out.

Derek swore and leapt off of him in a second, and when he swung around to face the creature he was wolfed out, his eyes blazing blue. The giant man bat let out a screech that was so loud Stiles had to slap his hands over his ears, and he watched as it swooped down to attack Derek. Derek twisted out of the way just in time, slashing with his claws across the creatures furred back. Its putrid yellow eyes blazed in fury and pain before it folded it’s wings against its back and landed to its taloned feet. And then they were fighting.

 

Stiles raked his gaze over the struggle, clenching his bat in his hands and twitching with nervous energy. He wanted to help but Derek and the thing were fighting so intensely he wasn’t sure if he’d even get a good hit in with the way they were twisting around one another. Help. They needed help! Stiles fished out his phone with shaking fingers and began to call Scott, staring with wide eyes at the fight in front of him. Scott picked up after a few rings and Stiles didn’t waste any time. “Big fucking bat man!” He yelled. “Need help, NOW!”

 

“Shit! Where are you at?!” Scott hissed, his voice sounded bouncy and Stiles knew he was running already.

 

He glanced around with wide eyes. “I don’t fucking know! In the woods!”

 

“Have Derek to roar, Stiles!”

 

Stiles nodded and hung up the phone. “Derek, you’ve got to roar so Scott knows where we are!” He yelled.

 

As if on cue the bat creature embedded its impressive claws deep into Derek’s belly and the wolf threw back his head and let out a roar of pain. Stiles cringed, because it wasn’t the kind of roar he was wanting, but it would still work. But he couldn’t just stand there while Derek was getting his ass handed to him either! Swearing, he ran forward with his bat cocked, and with as much force as he could muster smashed it across the things head.

 

The creature hunched forward slightly before swinging on him with a deafening screech, and Stiles cringed, dropping his bat to cover his ears again. He could hear Derek screaming his name but before he could move the thing was on him. He let out a scream as his feet lifted from the ground, kicking out and flailing his arms.

 

He could feel giant wings beating the air around him and stared down at Derek with wide, frantic eyes. Derek let out a roar that was so frightening that even Stiles cringed, and then he was leaping upwards and slashing his claws through one of the creature’s wings. The creature screeched again, but it was already going down, spiraling with Stiles in its arms. Stiles just yelped and hoped to God that he didn’t break his neck.

 

When they fell the air was knocked out of him yet again, and for a moment his vision was dark. Then suddenly he felt claws at him and cried out, trying to scoot out from under the creature but it’s tight was near crushing. It was clawing at his shirt with maddening intensity, ripping it to shred’s and when the thing suddenly stuck it’s ugly bat like nose against his skin and sucked in a deep inhale he stiffened, all kinds of _‘bad touch’_ things going through his mind. He beat at the things face and shoulders, nearly gagging when a long black tongue came out to swipe across his neck.

 

Luckily at that time Derek had reached them, and the werewolf jerked the creature off of him with another roar, slashing his claws across the things neck. The bat man shrieked, and batted Derek with one of its huge wings and Stiles realized with horror that the wing Derek had slashed had healed itself. The creature took the opening it had and projected itself quickly skyward like a torpedo, hovering above them a second to glare and shriek angrily before flying away just as quickly.

 

Stiles lay on the ground in shock, his chest rising and falling with sharp inhales and staring at the sky, waiting for the thing to come back at any second. Derek was there suddenly, grabbing him and pulling him up, his hands and eyes going over his body to check for wounds.

 

Stiles was still shaken from what had happened and batted at his hands, taking a step back. “I’m okay!” He hissed, and then stared down at himself and saw that he really wasn’t. His shirt was torn to rags and there were a few claw marks on his chest. And the place where the creature had licked him had left behind a thick, slimy substance that made him cringe. He hurriedly jerked the tattered remains of his shirt off of his body and began to scrub at the slime, his hands shaking. “What the fuck was it doing?” He gasped out, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.

 

“Stiles.”

 

“It was fucking licking me, Derek. _Licking me!”_ Jesus Christ the shit was like snail slime, it just didn’t want to go away.

 

Derek was in front of him suddenly, grasping his hands to still him. Stiles looked up at him, his eyes wide and frantic. The clear struggle in Derek’s own eyes made him feel slightly better and he just slumped his body with a deep sigh, his head falling forward until his forehead was lying on Derek’s shoulder. Derek stiffened slightly, but then relaxed and a second longer his hand was rubbing at Stiles back. Stiles let out a shaky breath.

 

“I don’t know if it had the hot’s for me, or if it was just trying to eat me.”

 

“Either way, I’m pretty sure it’s not a good thing.”

 

Stiles snorted softly before the sound of pounding feet sounded in his ears and he pulled away from Derek, looking up and seeing Scott and Kira running towards them. Scott was already wolfed out, eyes flashing red, and Kira had her sword drawn, looking around her fiercely. Stiles sighed at them. “It just flew away.”

 

Scott frowned, his gaze going over Stiles. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

 

“Because our newest creature likes the bad touch, alright, Scott?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Now, can we please go to Deaton’s? I want to make sure this slim isn’t going to do anything weird to my body.” Cause yeah, he had seen a lot of horror movies.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, I was was going to get your opinion on something. Do you think in this story it should be Bottom!Stiles/Top!Derek, or Bottom!Derek/Top!Stiles?? Cause as I write Stiles seems to be turning more and more dominant and Derek seem's to be shifting to the softer side.


	3. Mpreg & Aching Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THis......is some fucked up shit man lmao like for real. Some serious fucked up shit. I'm grossing myself out dude lol wtf did i write this haha

Derek began to tap his index finger against his forearm as he stood there, arms crossed over his chest and watching Deaton take a sample of the slime covering Stiles neck. Scott was standing just beside Deaton, staring with apparent disgust at the shiny substance and all the rest of the pack had a similar expression on their faces. Deaton bottled the stuff in a little plastic container and stared up at it close to the light overhead before turning to examine Stiles neck again. He used his hand to tilt Stiles' jaw a bit further sideways, exposing his neck more, and for some reason Derek felt a growl bubbling up in his throat. He tapered it down with a stern frown, having no idea where it had come from. Beside him Braeden glanced up at him and Derek wondered if some sound must have slipped through regardless. 

 

"And you said that it resembled a bat?" Deaton's slightly detached, clinical voice drew Derek's attention and he turned to look at the Druid.

 

Stiles snorted, rolling his eyes. "Dude, it basically  _was_ a giant man bat, bat man what the hell ever. The thing had to have been at least seven feet tall, right, Derek?"  _  
_

 

Stiles turned bright eyes his way for confirmation and Derek nodded, clearing his throat after a moment. "He's right. The thing looked like some cross between a man and bat. It's wing span was at least twelve feet, and it was covered in a thick brown fur."

 

Deaton nodded, deep in thought. "It sounds like an Olitiau."

 

Stiles face scrunched up at the word. "What the hell is that?"

 

"It's often described as a 'cave demon', It feed's off of animal blood, which would explain the attack's, I believe." There was collective nod's around the room before Deaton continued, and this time his expression seemed pensive and slightly pinched. "Although, over the years the Olitiau has de-evolved, becoming much smaller and less humanoid. If the one that you saw was as you say, then you may be dealing with a last remnant. And if that's so, then this is going to be increasingly more difficult."

 

Derek pushed off of the wall to walk forward. "What do you mean?"

 

"Yeah, what do you mean?!" Stiles protested. 

 

"Well the older version of the Olitiau was fairly more vicious and harder to kill. You said that it's wing healed?" At Derek and Stiles confirmation Deaton nodded. "From what I've read of the older breed, as long as they have fed on fresh blood, the Olitiau's ability to heal itself remains active."

 

"So you're saying the only way we can get it to not heal itself is to cut off it's food supply?" Scott asked, sounding conflicted. "How the hell are we supposed to do that? It's not like we can track down every animal in town and lock them up."

 

"I'm pretty sure it won't come to that." Derek scoffed. "Its not like this thing heals quickly enough to save it from major wounds. We'll just have to attack all at once."

 

Deaton nodded. "That should work. Although I don't think it's just animal's you should be worried about anymore." Deaton turned to look at Stiles. "The substance on your neck? The Olitiau was scent marking you."

 

Derek felt something deep in his belly knot, and his wolf stir restlessly in aggravation. Something at the back of his head had said as much, especially with how the creatures foul smell now clung to Stiles, but he hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, because he wasn't sure what it would mean. Now he was forced to, and Derek knew that whatever it meant, it couldn't be anything good. 

 

  
"You mean like what we do?" Liam asked with a confused frown, staring at Stiles. "Why would it do that? Does the thing think Stiles is part of it's pack or something?"

 

Deaton shook his head. "The Olitiau is actually a solitary creature. The only time that it keeps...company, is when it chooses to mate."

 

The room was silent a moment, Deaton's words soaking in and rattling around everyone's head's. Eventually Stiles was the one to finally make a move. He hopped down from the table, smacking his lips and nodding his head. "Well, I'll see you guys again one day."

 

Scott frowned at him as Stiles brushed past, heading for the door. "Stiles? Where are you going?"

 

Derek turned to watch Stiles, who swung around to face Scott with wide, frantic eyes. Derek couldn't help but dart his gaze over his bared chest. He kept noticing the differences in Stiles in very random intervals. First with his arms and shoulders at the loft, and now with his flat, toned stomach here. He let his eyes briefly take in the dark trail of hair traveling from under Stiles belly button to where in vanished in his jean's, and quickly glanced up to his face again, feeling a bit sheepish at his own actions. He wasn't exactly sure why he was just now noticing Stiles when he had never seemed to do it before. Just for some reason Derek was becoming alarmingly aware of the fact that Stiles wasn't the same annoying kid who he had found at the Preserve with Scott all those years ago. Not that he wasn't still annoying, because he could rile Derek up like no one ever had before. Not even Laura, who had liked to tease him relentlessly. 

 

"Well, Scott, seeing as there's some seven foot bad man hybrid that apparently wants to fucking  _mate with me!_ " Stiles hissed out, for the first time his nerves and frustration coming through in his voice as he threw his arms up in emphasis. "I'm getting the hell out of dodge!"

 

Derek watched as everyone visibly cringed, before Malia was moving forward and sliding her hand down Stiles arm to take his hand in her own. Stiles glanced down at her and then it was like the weight of everything just settled. He sighed loudly, his shoulder's slumping and his head falling. Derek wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that Malia seemed to be able to calm him so easily. Earlier Stiles had said that they weren't together again, but Derek  _did_ have eyes. And more importantly a nose. And from what he was smelling, Malia was very interested.

 

The Werecoyote turned to Deaton. "So what does this thing want to do exactly? Have Stiles' man/bat babies?"

 

A slightly awkward look came over Deaton."Not exactly. An Olitiau itself never carries young. They usually just implant an embryo in some sort of live stock or wild game."

 

"Has it slipped everyone's mind's that I'm a freaking guy!" Stiles shouted, holding his arms out at his side's as if to show proof. "Mpreg isn't real life, dude!"

 

Derek frowned, having no idea what Stiles was talking about but knowing Stiles he wasn't sure he wanted to.

 

"Actually, with the Olitiau it's possible. And given the fact that it scent marked you it seem's likely that it has chosen you to...incubate it's young."

 

Derek couldn't handle any of this anymore. "Hold on. None of this makes any sense. How can this thing impregnate a male. Stiles doesn't have female reproductive organs." 

 

"Thank you!" Stiles nodded his head eagerly.

 

"Unfortunately he doesn't need them. An Olitiau doesn't mate with other of it's kind, but instead implants an embryo to duplicate offspring."

 

Derek sighed, bringing his hand up to massage his temple, which was beginning to pound. Whoever said werewolves couldn't get headaches had obviously never lived his life. "Okay. Let's just say that this is possible. Exactly  _how_ would this thing...." He glanced over at Stiles, who looked both pale and green at the same time, and Derek resisted the urge to stand next to him and lay  a hand on his shoulder. 

 

"I'm not sure if you noticed, but the Olitiau have genital aphasia - "

 

"Like a ken doll?" Lydia asked with an arched brow.

 

Deaton nodded. "Exactly. So the way that they mate is a little more...intense." Deaton turned to gather a book from one of his shelves, and Derek moved closer, glancing down as he placed it on the table and began to flip through the pages of what must be a bestiary. He felt a shift in the air beside him and then suddenly Stiles was at his side, a warmth seeping into Derek's side. Their arm's brushed slightly and Derek frowned deeply when he felt the fine hairs on his arm stand on end, as if desperate to reach out and touch. Stiles shuffled a bit further away before leaning down to look at the pages. "Here." Deaton stopped on a page where an image of a smaller version of the creature they had seen earlier was, but it's jaws were stretched incredibly wide and it's tongue was roped out, long and black. Derek felt Stiles shiver next to him and automatically stepped closer to him until their arms were brushing once again. Stiles stiffened, but made no move to pull away. Something inside of Derek howled triumphant. "What you thought was the Olitiau's tongue, was actually a tube like organ that passes the embryo into the body of whatever the creature has decided to house it's young."

 

Derek could feel Stiles' panic attack coming on before it appeared. He quickly grabbed onto Stiles bicep as he slumped, his knee's apparently going weak. He hurriedly ushered him over to sit in a chair, while Scott rushed forward to kneel in front of Stiles. Derek reluctantly released him and stepped away, watching as more people began to move forward to calm Stiles down while Derek tried not to freak out as well. Because seriously, this was some of the most fucked up shit he had ever experienced. The need to hunt down this thing and kill it was so overwhelming Derek was almost bursting out of his skin. 

 

"Am I...did it..." Stiles gasped out, not yet able to form a full sentence.

 

Deaton shook his head. "To implant it's embryo the Olitiau has to force it's appendage either in an open wound, or...down your throat."

 

" _Oh, God."_ Stiles hunched over, making a gagging noise that had Scott jumping back from him. Obviously the True Alpha was not all about getting barfed on. "How if this my fucking life!" Stiles croaked. "Why the fuck me?!"

 

Deaton sighed, shutting the book. "I'm honestly not sure. From what I have read the Olitiau usually chooses livestock to house it's offspring. But maybe the older version was different. I can't really say seeing as there hasn't been a sighting of one in at least two hundred years. Whatever the reason, it's obviously marked you so it can find you later, which mean's you can't stay at your house."

 

Derek frowned. "His scent will draw the creature there." 

 

Stiles' eyes grew large, frantic. "What about my dad?! I don't want this thing coming to my house looking for me and my dad getting caught in the cross fires!"

 

"Hey, I'm sure your dad can stay with Parrish or something." Scott said gently, trying to be helpful. "I'd say my house, but you're scent is most likely there as well. Which mean's I'm going to have to get my mom to stay somewhere else." He stood instantly and fished his cell from him pocket, already dialing and turning away.

 

"Why doesn't he just stay here?" Lydia spoke up, looking around the clinic. "It's not like we're here that often, really."

 

Derek looked at Deaton, watching as he considered the options within his own mind before finally nodding. "I suppose he would be safer here. Someone should stay with him though, just in case."

 

"I will." Malia spoke immedietly, laying a hand on Stiles shoulder. Stiles smiled weakly up at her before nodding. 

 

Derek looked away. It made more sense that Malia would stay with him, really. She was a werecoyote, she would be able to protect him if anything happened. Plus Derek imagined it would be a bit awkward if he were to stay with Stiles anyways. Still..."Someone else should stay as well. Just to be sure."

 

"I'll stay." Scott said as he turned back to them, sliding his phone back in his pocket. "Mom's going to stay with someone she work's with."

 

Derek gave a nod, for the moment satisfied. "Everyone stays in contact, checking in by the hour." Maybe it was a bit much, but Derek didn't feel like taking any chances. Everyone agreed easily enough, and then people were heading out, until only he and Braeden, and Stiles, Malia and Scott were left. 

 

"I know that we probably shouldn't, but I'm staying here overnight I really need to grab some stuff from my house. A shirt for one." Stiles said. 

 

"I'll go with you." Malia stood, drawing Stiles up with her. "Scott are you okay alone?"

 

Scott nodded and waved them off. "It's a while still until night. I'll go grab us some grub. Stiles why don't you bring the XBox and some games? Deaton has a small TV in his office."

 

"Awesome." Stiles nodded before heading after Malia. He paused just as he was passing Derek, glancing up at him. "What about you, Big Guy. I haven't forgotten you were hurt, too. How are you doing?"

 

Derek felt something shift pleasantly in his belly at the thought of Stiles worried about him and shrugged, hoping for nonchalance. "Werewolf." Was all he said, because that said it all. 

 

Stiles snorted, nodding his head and slapping a hand on Derek's shoulder as he passed. "Right." And then he was out the door.

 

Derek watched his retreating back through the little square window a moment before Braeden was placing a hand on his shoulder, right over the spot that was still warm from Stiles touch. He resisted the urge to shrug her off. 

 

"Why don't we head back to the loft?"

 

Derek turned to nod at Scott, and then they were leaving as well.

 

 

***********************************

 

 

Stiles quickly unlocked and let himself into his house. His dad was at work, and would be until early the next morning. Stiles would have to call him eventually to explain what was going on, and he really wasn't looking forward to it. Knowing his dad the man would skip out on work and stay at the clinic to breath down his throat, hand hovering over his holster. Yeah. Not fun. Besides, it had been a while since he and Scott just hung out and played games, and even though the situation sucked Stiles wasn't going to let that slip away. He headed up the stairs and to his bedroom, letting the door stay wide open as he grabbed the first shirt he saw and slipped it over his head. He searched his dirty floor for his backpack and sat it on the bed, beginning to rummage through his dresser drawers for a change of clothes and anything else he may need.

 

"Are you worried?"

 

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Malia who was watching him closely and snorted. "Am I worried that some gigantic bat man is going to find and impregnate me? Yeah. Just a tad bit."

 

Malia reached out to fiddle with a book lying on his computer desk, staring down at it absently and Stiles frowned at her before going back to his search. "I know that all this sucks, but I'm glad we'll be able to spend some time together."

 

Stiles glanced up again, his brows lifted. "Yeah. It should be cool." Why was his stomach suddenly knotting? 

 

"Do you think that Scott really need's to be there, though? I mean I think I'd be able to keep you safe."

 

Stiles gave up on packing and turned to Malia with a frown. He looked at her a moment before shrugging, rubbing his fingers over his lips. "I dunno, I mean I think everyone would just be safer than sorry, you know?"

 

Malia nodded. "Totally. Yeah, I get that. It was just..I was looking forward to spending some time alone with you."

 

Stiles tilted his head, squinting at her with pinched lips. Cause yeah, he had no idea what the hell was going on. But it sounded an awful lot like something that couldn't possibly be happening. Because Malia had left him. She had been the one to end things between them and now she was acting like she wanted him back and Stiles wasn't down with that, not really. Sure, it was mostly because he was in love with Derek, but Malia had hurt him when she had left. And as much as he did love her, he couldn't just forgive something like that so easily. "Malia...are you...I mean I don't know if I'm reading this wrong but...do you want to get back together?"

 

Malia sighed, her entire body relaxing in relief before she threw a grin to Stiles. "Thank God. I really didn't want to come right out and say it."

 

Stiles made an unintelligent noise, holding his hand up as he struggled for words a moment. "Oh. Wow. You do. Okay, um...I actually wasn't expecting that." At Malia's frown he quickly shook his head. "No, I mean I kind of thought, but I didn't really know, you know? I just thought that we were over. I mean you made it pretty clear that we were over before you left, you know? And I came to terms with that and...I mean I - I got over you." He cringed, cause yeah, that sounded bad. "Not trying to sound insensitive or anything, but it's the truth. I mean I will always love you, but the love I feel for you now is just like the love I feel for Scotty and the rest of the pack."

 

Malia stood still the entire time he ranted, eerily quiet throughout all of it. When he was finally done she drew in a long inhale and nodded. "The rest of the pack." She mimicked. "And that includes Derek, too?"

 

Stiles drew back slightly, not expecting her words. He felt himself flush slightly and cleared his throat. "Well, yeah. I mean it's never really been publicly acknowledged or anything, but yeah, Derek's pack."

 

"And you love him." She stated the words frankly.

 

Stiles' felt his blush deepen.

 

Malia watched him closely, her eyes squinted as she examined him. "You know, there's a way that you look at him - every time that you find yourselves together, that I can never understand. But I think I get it now..." Malia drew off, her head tilting slightly to the side and growing quiet like she were listening, and then suddenly she was letting out a soft laughing scoff, shaking her head. In front of her Stiles' eyes had steadily grown wider. "Its...love. And I don't mean the kind of love that you feel for me or the pack."

 

Stiles was now pale, his eyes wide and his mouth parted. "What?"

 

"You know when I realized it? When we were back at Derek's loft and Braeden kissed him. You looked away cause you couldn't handle seeing them kiss. If you really didn't care you wouldn't have to force yourself not to look."

 

Stiles licked his lips nervously, struggling to find words, to deny what she was saying, but he just couldn't. In the end he felt himself give a slight nod. 

 

Malia stood there a moment, her expression shifting from hurt to sad, before she finally nodded as well. "I'm going to wait outside." And with that she was walking away, leaving Stiles standing there stunned.

 

 

********************************

 

 

Derek had dropped Braeden off at the loft and left with the intention of grabbing them something to eat, yet somehow he found himself parked outside of Stiles house. He stared up at Stiles window with a sigh, clenching the steering wheel and wondering what the hell he was doing there. Even he knew he was acting weird. He couldn't help it, though. With Stiles in danger all he could think about was keeping him safe, even if it meant creeping around like Stiles so often liked to say he did. Realizing that if Stiles caught him he would never heart the end of it he was about to start up the Toyota again and get the hell out of there before he had his dignity intact, but then he caught a glimpse of the conversation Malia and Stiles were having and found himself pausing, tilting his head slightly to listen more closely. 

 

He was right then. Malia did want to be with Stiles again. After what Stiles had told him in the preserve about how their relationship had 'started', Derek found himself highly upset by this news. It wasn't healthy. At all. Or hell, maybe it was. Maybe even though they had started off for the wrong reason's, they both helped each other in the long run. Hell, Derek didn't know, and who was he to judge anyways? He was the fucking King of unhealthy relationships. Sighing to himself he reached for the key to start the ignition again and then Stiles reply came fluttering like the wind into his ear. He found himself greedily listening, a surge of satisfaction curling low in his belly when Stiles denied Malia. Good for him. She had left him, after all. He deserved better than that. Not that Malia wasn't a good person, because she was. It was just... _she had left him_.

 

Derek ignored the voice in the back of his head that reasoned he himself had left Stiles and Beacon Hills plenty of times, and that more importantly Stiles had just recently been super pissed at him for it. He didn't want to acknowledge it, because if Stiles had forgiven Derek, did that mean he would forgive Malia too?

 

He sighed, slumping back in his seat and listening to two teenagers talk about their relationship or lack there of. And really he should be a little ashamed of himself, but yeah he couldn't bring himself to be.

 

He sat in silence a moment, listening to Malia talk and frowning when she brought up his name. He tilted his head to the side, hearing a bit of bitterness in her voice. And then as she continued, his eyes began to slowly widen, and his mouth parted on a silent inhale of surprise at what he heard. 

 

She was....was she accusing Stiles of being in love...with him? Derek's grip on the steering wheel tightened until he heard the material crack slightly. He quickly pulled his hand away, staring blankly at the damage he had done. 

 

It couldn't be true. Stiles wasn't in love with him. Derek would have realized it by now. He would know things like that. Stiles wouldn't be able to mask it from his scent. It would be a dead give away.

 

But...Stiles hadn't told Malia she was wrong, had he? Why hadn't he told her she was wrong?

 

Just when he was about to go out of his mind the front door opened and Stiles balked, nearly face planing in the seat thinking it was Stiles walking out. But when he saw Malia, and Malia saw him, he froze as their gazes locked. Malia just stood there staring at him a moment and then she was walking towards him, pulling open the passenger door, and sliding in to sit beside him. Derek just turned to stare at her, mouth hanging open and having no idea what to say.

 

Malia took one look at him and sighed, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's in love with you, you know?" She asked. 

 

Derek blinked rapidly, struggling for words and finding nothing.

 

Malia sighed again, nodding her head like she was acknowledging something that Derek had no idea about. "Talk to him." 

 

And then she was opening the door, sliding out, and walking back up the steps.

 

Derek sat still about ten seconds longer before he started up the Toyota, and sped out of the drive way.

 

 

*******************************

 

 

 

The ride back to the clinic was spent in silence, Malia's gaze directed out the passenger side window the entire time. She sat perfectly still, her body relaxed even though Stiles had a feeling she was faking it. Him on the other hand? He couldn't be still. His fingers drummed continuously against the steering wheel, and his knee bounced up and down when he was not shifting gears and pressing in on the clutch. Someone knew he was in love with Derek. To be honest he had thought that Scott would be the one to figure it out first. Though Scott always had been a bit dense when it came to these things. Stiles was pretty sure that Lydia knew that Stiles felt  _something_ for Derek, but he didn't think she realized that he was in love with him. Stiles glanced over at Malia, gnawing on his bottom lip worriedly. Would she tell him? She was Derek's cousin. Did that mean they had some sort of  _thing_ where Malia was expected to tell him? Hell, if Stiles had a sister that Scott had the hots for he would tell her, for no other purpose than to be an ass. But Malia wasn't exactly like him. It wasn't like she'd get a kick out of seeing Stiles squirm when around Derek, right? 

 

He remembered the brief hurt that had crossed her face when Stiles had rejected her.

 

Dammit. He was freaking out.

 

When they got back to the clinic Scott's bike was there and as they headed in Stiles caught the tantalizing whiff of curly fries and knew that his best friend had already gone and came back with their food. Stiles passed a glance at Malia when she brushed past him, not even looking at him, and his shoulders slumped a little more. Shit. Why did his life have to be so complicated? Why couldn't he just have one boring day where absolutely nothing happened to him. Where he could be lazy all day and lounge around on the couch in his pajama's watching Netflix and playing XBox. But of course that kind of life wasn't for him. Not anymore. Not as long as he was in Beacon Hills.

 

Stiles gave an inward sigh and heaved his back pack a little higher on his back, heading to the back room where Scott had already drug out a small TV and was setting it up. He had a few fries in his mouth that he was chewing on as he glanced up to grin at them before getting back to work. 

 

"Foods on the desk." He said through a mouthful of salty goodness.

 

Stiles sat his backpack down on one of the chairs and grabbed a brow paper bag, peeking down into it to pull out a large container of curly fries from the diner down the street. He sat them along with a burger on his chair before sitting the backpack down beside Scott. "XBox is in there. I brought a few games and movies, too. I know Deaton doesn't have WiFi in here. Freaking savage." He muttered, returning to unwrap his greasy burger and take a large bite. He kept glancing sideways at Malia, who was getting her own food and moving to sit in a chair close to Scott. Stiles couldn't help but sigh around his food. 

 

Honestly he was a little conflicted about his own feelings. Getting back with Malia was never going to happen, he knew that, but maybe he didn't have to have been so harsh with her about it. Sure, she had left him, but Stiles knew what it felt like to be rejected. It sucked. Big time. And he imagined that it must have been worse for Malia, because she had  _expected_ Stiles to say yes, hadn't she? He blew out a puff of air and glanced up as Scott let out a little cheer of triumph before scooting back to sit near Stiles feet with one of the controllers. 

 

He grabbed the other burger from the bag. "So since no one offered I went ahead and picked out the first movie."

 

Stiles just gave a nod of agreement, taking a gulp of soda through his straw. As Edward Norton's voice filled the room preparing them all for the mind fuck that was Fight Club, Stiles couldn't help but feel like he and Edward Norton's character - who actually remained nameless the entire movie, were kind of similar. Not in a split personality kind of way, or anything. Just in the fact that when Stiles stayed up into the late hours of night, staring at his ceiling and trying to imagine what his life would be like after highschool, after Beacon Hills, he can't help but feel totally useless. It's like he has no sense of _being_ unless he's in this hellish place where he can at least say that he in some ways keeps the people of Beacon Hills safe. Even if he does a shitty job of it most of the time. For week's he's been too afraid to think about what he's going to do after graduation. He knows that Scott would never leave Beacon Hills, where he's needed. That a lot of them won't. And what about Derek? The man's shown time and time again that he's okay with up and leaving his birth place. Stiles stared down at this curly fries, imagining him going to Derek's loft and propositioning that they just up and leave together. That Derek follows him to whatever college he goes to. That they could rent some shitty apartment together and be roommates. What would Derek say to that? Would he laugh in Stiles face? Hell, he may just slam the door in his face before Stiles even has a chance to talk. Derek would never want to live with Stiles, anyways. They'd most likely just be at each other's throats all day. Besides, he had Braeden. If Derek left again, it would be with her. Unless Braeden decides to stay.

 

For the first time Stiles imagines that. He imagines them buying things for the loft and making it into a real home. He imagines them cooking together and grocery shopping together. Curling up on the couch and watching movies together. And what if their happy? What if they're together for years and then Braeden get's pregnant and suddenly Derek is a dad.

 

Stiles sits his half eaten burger down. His stomach hurts. He just wants to curl up in his own bed at home and cry himself to sleep, because he's never felt so fucking wounded. Not even with Lydia.

 

"You okay man?" 

 

He looks up to see Scott frowning at him, his eyes filled with concern.

 

Stiles nods and clears his throat, aware of Malia watching him knowingly with those sharp eyes. "Just messed up about everything." He mutters, and it's true enough. 

 

Scott nods after a moment. "I know. But don't worry, if that thing comes here, it's not getting though us. No creepy batbabies for you."

 

Stiles gives a weak grin. "Awesome. Thanks, bro."

 

Scott bobs his head with a smile before turning back to the TV. 

 

Stiles sighs, and makes himself eat his curly fries.

 

 

***********************************************************************

 

 

It's nearly midnight when Scott's cell starts to go off. He's curled up awkwardly on a chair near Stiles and Stiles watches as he fumbles around a moment, jolted awake, and then he pulls his cell from his pocket and practically smacks it to his ear. "Yeah?"

 

Stiles narrows his eyes and stares at Scott, whose expression has gone from tired and confused to wide eyed in a split second. He really hates that he doesn't have werewolf hearing in that moment.

 

"Alright, we're on our way." Scott swears as he ends the call, and stands immedietly. "We've got to get to the hospital."

 

Stiles moves to stand as well, his eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

 

"The Olitaiu, it followed your scent to the loft. It wounded Braeden pretty bad before Derek scared it off."

 

Stiles cursed, grabbing his hoodie and slipping it on. He turned to look at Malia, who was still sleeping across the room. "What about Derek, is he okay?

 

Scott frowned at him. "He's a werewolf." Was all he said, but the point was met.

 

Stiles nodded and moved to shake Malia awake, and then the three were racing from the clinic out to Stiles jeep. 

 

It took a total of ten minutes for Stiles to reach the emergency room, and consider it was at least twenty minutes across town that was saying something. By some stroke of luck none of his dad's deputies had been on the roads, and it had been a free reigned stretch. He's barely slammed his door shut behind him and is already running across the parking lot, feet hitting the pavement hard with Scott and Malia at his back. He's not sure how exactly he managed to reach the doors before the two werewolves behind him, but it somehow happened. He ignores the annoyed stares of some people that had been loitering near the doors as he searches the cold, packed room for a familiar face. He see's Derek the same time Derek notices him, and then they're moving towards each other like two magnets drawn together. As they stop in front of each other Stiles rakes his eyes over Derek, noticing his ripped shirt and disheveled hair. There is blood on his tee shirt but Stiles can't make out any wounds. Which, duh. When he's finally sure that Derek's okay he looks back up to his face, seeing that Derek is looking him over as well, and Stiles wonders if he had been worried about Stiles as well. 

 

"What happened?" Stiles asks.

 

Scott and Malia move to each side of him, and Derek sighs deep, shaking his head and running his hands over his face. Stiles notices how exhausted he seems. He wonders if Derek had gotten any sleep yet. 

 

"It just appeared. Bust through the window. Braeden was upstairs sleeping and she came down when she heard me fighting the thing." His expression is pained. "It hurt her pretty badly. They had to take her to surgery."

 

"Fuck." Scott hisses at his side.

 

Stiles vaguely hear's he and Derek talking as he lowers his head, looking down at the floor. This thing was after him, for whatever reason. But it wanted him. And it was his fault that Braeden had been hurt. How many more people were going to be caught in the crossfires. There's a grip on his arm suddenly, and Stiles looks at the dark hand with a frown, examining the dusting of hair on the back of the knuckles. He looks up to see Derek standing in front of him with a stern frown on his face. The fact that Derek is touching him sends a thrill to his system, and Stiles body greedily cries out  _more_ and he resist's the urge to move forward.

 

"It's not your fault."

 

He had been so overcome over the fact that Derek was touching him that Stiles almost didn't hear his words. When he did, though, he nodded stiffly, gently pushing Derek's hand away. "Yeah. Still, it sucks." He glances over at the double doors. "How long has she been in there?"

 

Derek watches him a moment before shaking his head with a sigh. "Not long. Maybe twenty minutes."

 

"No one's come out yet to let you know what's going on?" Malia asked softly.

 

Derek shook his head, looking away, but not before Stiles saw the frantic helplessness in his eyes. His heart ached while his stomach knotted. He hated seeing Derek feel so lost, but the knowledge that Braeden meant so much to him hit Stiles like blow to the gut. And he knew that it was wrong of him to think like that, but he couldn't help it. 

 

"Come on, why don't we sit down." Scott looked around the room with a frown, seeking out spare chairs, and after finally walking down the hall a ways they found some lining the walls. They took to them before anyone else could nab them, Stiles choosing to sit in the one that was tucked in a circular corner across from them near some drink machines. He began to chew on his thumb nail as he tapped the toe of his shoe against the floor. Stiles wasn't sure how long they all sat there in silence, but eventually Malia was stretching in her seat with a groan, moving to stand.

 

"I'm going to go get some coffee."

 

Scott nodded, standing as well. "And we should really let everyone else know what's happened. I'll go make a few calls." He looked down at Stiles and Derek. "Are you guys good?"

 

Stiles had an urge to beg Scott to stay, but nodded his head instead. He was going to have to get over not wanting to be left alone with Derek. He was going to have to start trying to get over him. Derek nodded as well, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knee's and stare down at the floor. Stiles watched as Scott and Malia walked away, Malia glancing over her shoulder at the two of them briefly that made Stiles look away guilty. He lifted his hand to start chewing on his thumb nail again. He let there be silence between them for a good two minutes before he couldn't take it anymore. "We should have realized it would go to the loft. My scent is probably all over the place."

 

A strange look came over Derek's face, almost pained, and Stiles didn't understand the reasoning behind it. Derek gave a brief nod. "We were careless."

 

Silence fell once again.

 

Stiles shifted nervously on the chair, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. He couldn't help but think of Braeden lying unconscious in one of the rooms, hooked up to tubes and machines and it made him feel almost sick. He chanced a glance up at Derek and found the man watching him with a deep frown, a look in his eyes was closely resembled confusion. Stiles stilled, swallowing hard. "What?"

 

Derek watched him, his eyes searching Stiles face like he were trying to find something. "Why are you so worried, Stiles?" Stiles frowned deeply at his question, and Derek shook his head. "No, I mean...it's just that none of you are that close with Braeden. And it just seems like you especially would - " He drew off then, snapping his mouth shut before shrugging. "I just don't understand why you're even here."

 

Stiles was insulted. Honestly he was. He let out a deep huff of air and shook his head, looking away from Derek. He wanted to be pissed off, to yell at him and call him an ass, but a part of Stiles knew that Derek really did have a point. Who was Braeden to him, exactly? As harsh as it sounded, she was no one. And if he were being honest, lately when he looked at her he was just reminded of everything he could never be. That he would never be what she was to Derek, whatever that was. Yet..."I care." Stiles said softly. Derek arched a brow in front of him, and Stiles licked his lips nervously. "I mean, she's obviously important to you, and...you're important to me. So...I care."

 

The look on Derek's face was one of pure, unexpected surprise, and it's weight was too much for Stiles to bear. He looked away.

 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/stilesathospital1_zpsnsqx4xb6.gif.html)

 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/stilesathospital_zpsmsqjxzyt.gif.html)

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/derekhospital_zpspdr9lebb.gif.html)

 

 

It seemed like long, drawn out moments of silence were their 'go to' lately, and Stiles didn't know how it had happened so suddenly. Wasn't it just yesterday that they had been walking in the preserve together, for once in their lives actually talking? There had been no violence or threats of it (at least from each other), and Derek had actually seemed like he  _wanted_ Stiles to talk to him. And now suddenly it was like some dark shroud had fallen over them and things once again felt tense and awkward. It was like the moment Stiles had admitted out loud that he was in love with Derek, the universe had decided to start fucking with him again.

 

"We were arguing." 

 

Stiles jerked his gaze up with wide eyes, his mouth parting slightly. "Huh?"

 

"Me and Braeden. We were... _have_ arguing."

 

Stiles frowns, remembering yesterday when he had pulled his jeep up to park beside the Toyota. He had thought they seemed a bit tense, but thought it must have been his imagination. Apparently not. Still, he wasn't exactly sure what to say aside from - "I'm sorry?" He cringed at how questioning his own voice sounded.

 

Derek arched a brow and one corner of his lips drew up. It wasn't very much, just enough to show that he was actually grinning. Or smirking. Or whatever the hell his 'almost-but-not-quite-there-smile' that Stiles had always been fascinated with was. He sat back against the hospital chair, resting an elbow on the arm to rub his fingers across the stubble of his jaw, and Stiles found his eyes tracking the movement. He couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like on his skin.

 

"She wants to go to Washington to track down the Desert Wolf. She wants me to go with her."

 

Stiles felt his spine stiffen and his breath catch in his lungs. All of a sudden he was angry. It came upon him so quickly that he felt dizzy from it. He shook his head, his lips pinched tightly. Derek frowned across from him, his eyes silently questioning what was wrong. Stiles bit out a humorless laugh and drew straighter in his chair. "So you're leaving. Again." He didn't give Derek time to speak before he was going on. "I should have fucking known. I mean, it's not like you'd want to stick around anyways. Because, seriously, what's even here for you? The only family you have left in South America, and the other's locked up in the freaking loony bin, where he will hopefully stay, right? So what does that leave you? And yeah, sure, you've got Malia, but we all know she isn't too big on 'that side of the family', if you know what I mean. So what's left? Nothing. Just a bunch of stupid teenagers who are more trouble than they're worth. Why the hell wouldn't you want to leave?" He bit out sourly, his heart now pumping out a fast staccato against his ribs. And Jesus Christ, even though he was angry,  _furious_ , he was so fucking  _devastated._ He knew that Derek could most likely smell the sadness seeping off of him and Stiles was even more pissed off that he wasn't even left to privately mourn. But what was he mourning, exactly? The loss of something that would never be? Yeah, sure. But it wasn't because it  _could_ be.

 

Derek was not the least bit interested in him. He wasn't so naive to think otherwise. So why the hell should he be so damned upset about someone who would never even love him back?

 

In front of him Derek's frown had steadily deepened, until the man looked nearly laughable by the end of Stiles rant. The werewolf was silent a moment, just shaking his head silently with his mouth parted like he was trying to take in everything that Stiles had just spewed out. "Stiles, I -"

 

"Mr. Hale?"

 

They both looked up as a Doctor in scrubs appeared, Derek drawing to a stand with wide eyes. "How is she?"

 

"We were able to stop her bleeding, thankfully." The man said with a sigh. "There was some internal damage done, though, but as of right now she's in the clear. We'll have to keep her for a few days at least to monitor her recover and make sure no infections set in. Now I know you said that she was attacked by a dog, but are you sure that's what it was?"

 

Derek didn't even blink. "I honestly can't be sure. It was so dark. We were just walking home and the next thing I know this thing jumps out of the bushes and attack's her. Why? Do you not think it was a dog?"

 

"Well, the wounds are a bit too deep and the scratch pattern incredibly long. Too long for any dog. The closest thing we could possibly link it with is a mountain lion."

 

Stiles resisted the urge to snort. Mountain Lion. Beacon Hill's go too attacker when things got a little too weird.

 

Derek nodded."Yeah. Yeah I guess it could have been that. It's just...like I said it was pretty dark."

 

"We understand. But just in case we'll go ahead and let the station know. If we've got a mountain lion wondering the streets of Beacon Hills there's no telling who can get hurt next."

 

"What about Braeden? Can I see her?"

 

The doctor nodded. "She's still under, but the nurses will let you briefly step in for a moment. Since you're not family unfortunately you'll have to wait until visiting hours afterwards."

 

Derek nodded. "Okay. I understand. Thank you."

 

The man gave a slight smile before turning on his heel's and heading back down the hall. 

 

Stiles stood, his finger tips fiddling with the material of his jeans. "At least she's going to be okay."

 

Derek nodded, still looking down the hall. He finally turned after a moment though, and his eyes locked onto Stiles. "About what I said -"

 

Stiles held up his hand, shaking his head. "No. It's...just forget about it. I don't need to make even more of an ass of myself." He ran shaky hands through his hair, glancing anywhere but at Derek. "Look, I'm going to go find Scott and Malia, alright? So you should go check in on Braeden."

 

Derek stood still a few seconds before he nodded, and then turned to head down the hall.

 

Stiles stared at his retreating back, feeling like with every step he took he was losing him more and more. 

 

His chest ached. 


	4. These Talks Are Made Easier With Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is a FailWolf. 
> 
> Stiles & Derek still don't get their shit together. Because they suck.
> 
> A little bit of wolf cuddling makes it better though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has drinking & driving, which I in no way condone. Bad Stiles.

Derek wrestles with the urge to turn around and go back to Stiles. To grab his shoulders and shake the stubbornness from him. Derek knew all about being closed off. Hell, he still was to a certain extent. But Stiles? The hyper active spaz had been nothing but an open book since Derek had met him. And while his expressions and body language still managed to give him away, it was clear that Stiles was attempting to drive a wall between the two of them. The thing was, years ago Derek wouldn't have cared. Hell, years ago the wall would have been placed there by  _him_  . But now? 

 

Derek opened the door to Braeden's room and slipped quietly inside. His gut clenched when he saw her lying there asleep, hooked up to beeping machines. Her parlor was off - slightly grayish, and there were small cuts covering her face from where the Olitiau had thrown her across floor of broken glass. Derek knew there were similar cuts all across her body. But nothing could compare to the deep gashes across her stomach left by the Olitiau's claws. 

 

Almost unbidden Derek's thoughts went back to just yesterday in the preserve, when he and Braeden had been arguing in the Toyota. Braeden thought it had been a bad idea to come back to Beacon Hills. She didn't even understand why Derek would want to, given all the bad things that had happened to him there. 

 

When Derek had left again he had made it clear to her that there was no reason for him to stay. And Stiles check in with him plenty enough to reassure Derek that everyone was alright, because despite how it sometimes seemed he actually cared about Stiles, Scott, and the other's. They had been though too much for him not too. But then Derek realized he had been relying on Stiles to keep him stable, and he had freaked out. Not about the fact that Stiles was his anchor, because if he was being honest that bond had formed years ago, steadily growing stronger. It had been naturally formed. Stiles was always there to offer support, to save him, and he done just that numerous times. It hadn't actually struck Derek of how important Stiles was to him until he had dreamed of him when Kate had come back, and even though her appearance had ushered in a cloud of darkness to Derek's life, the fact that he had an anchor so strong had kept him from losing control completely.

 

But when he had left Beacon Hills, Derek had naturally assumed that the absence of Stiles would mean that his anchor would change and reform once again. And when he had realized that it didn't - that Derek himself was desperately clinging, it had scared him.

 

Out of all the pack, Derek felt closest to Stiles. Hell, in a way he always had. In the beginning when they shared a similar dislike for each other, they had somehow still always found themselves gravitating together. Almost like the universe were pushing them together. In the end, while Stiles still annoyed the shit out of him, he had stopped trying to resist. Derek understood that some things were just natural. And soon after that he realized that Stiles was incredibly smart and resourceful, as well as stupidly brave at times. He had learned that the two of them actually worked well together when they weren't attempting to kill one another, and Derek accepted that the reason why the universe had been trying to stick the two of them together was for that reason. Stiles convinced Derek to pause and think before running head long into battle - to form a plan of attack; and in return Derek provided Stiles with the strength and means that the human lacked. They became allies. More than that, Derek realized they had been friends. It was a strange friendship. Almost one known to only them.

 

But still...he hadn't realized just how much he had come to rely on Stiles until one morning months ago. He and Braeden had been on the road, heading after another lead, and it was nearing noon and he hadn't heard from Stiles that morning. It was entirely out of character. Stiles usually sent him a message every morning to say hey and that he was alive, and Derek couldn't help but feel a bit worried. As the day had progressed his mood had only gotten worse, to the point that he was little more than grunts and growls. Breaeden had eventually called him an asshole and left to find a bar to drown her frustration, and Derek had chose to take a run in his wolf form to try and clear his head. When he had gotten back it was to find a text message from Stiles. Apparently he had lost his phone the night before at the preserve and had gotten Scott to literally sniff it out.

 

The relief that had filled him made his knees weak and he had sank to the bed. His mood was instantly better, and he felt like he could breath again. He had began to text Stiles back, when something had made him pause. A sudden realization that had caught him off guard.

 

It wasn't the fact that he had been so worried about Stiles, because even in the beginning Derek had always annoyingly worried about the human that was far too soft and fragile compared to everyone else. It was the fact that Derek suddenly knew without a doubt that he  _needed_ Stiles in his life in one way or another in order for him to feel even remotely sane.

 

Derek had stopped talking to Stiles that day; because while Stiles gave him strength, he was also his greatest weakness.

 

And now? Now Stiles was trying to shut him out and it was driving him fucking crazy. As Derek sat down at the bedside chair, he thought about what he had overheard the other night at Stiles house, deciding that maybe it was time he started paying a little more attention.

 

 

****************************

 

 

Stiles is dreaming. He knows that his, because he's had the dream before. Well, not really the same dream, but pretty similar. And just as before, he's so completely confused over what's happening. Derek is sitting across from him on the bench of the boy's locker room, staring down at the floor with a solem expression. Stiles sighs from where he stands under the window, the setting sun streaming in behind him and showering him in a cascade of pale gold. He thinks that maybe that means something. That it's important somehow, but he can't figure out why. 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/tumblr_inline_n4bcm32R681qdkyu1_zpsczck0xhq.png.html)

 

 

Just like in the last dream, Derek is the first to speak. "I don't know what to do."

 

Stiles stares down at him a moment, fiddling idly with the hoodie of his hoodie. After a moment he sighs again and moves forward a few steps, until he's standing just above Derek. "Well, Big Guy, not a lot of us do."

 

Derek shakes his head with a stern frown, still staring at the floor. "But I  _should_. I'm not some kid, Stiles. I'm an adult. I'm supposed to have some sort of understanding."

 

Stiles snorted. He held up his hand, showing one finger. "Okay, first, I'm highly insulted by the way you're obviously insinuating that I'm not an adult. I'm eighteen, asshole. I'm legally an adult." Another finger goes up. "And two,  _no one_ knows what they're doing. Not even grumpy old bastards like you." Derek finally turned a glare up at him, and Stiles quirked a grin. "Yeah, that's right. I said it." He moved to sit down across from Derek, resting his elbows on his knee's and clasping his hands together, completely mirroring Derek's own position. He stared at Derek's face a moment, searching the deeply scowling brows and the down turned lips. "What's got you so worked up?"

 

Derek met his gaze a moment longer before looking away, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Just that...." He sighed. "Stiles, what are you supposed to do when the thing that makes you strong, is the same thing that makes you weak?"

 

Stiles' brows rose and his lips parted in a silent exhale. He was quiet a moment before shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see Derek Hale being so deep." He held up his hands with a small laugh when Derek glared up at him. "Calm down, I'm kidding." Growing serious again Stiles sighed. "I guess I can see why that's hard. But...actually now that I think about it, I can't." He scowled. "How can something make you both strong and weak?"

 

Derek grumbled, shifting his body slightly and turning away from Stiles.

 

Stiles glared at him and after a moment reached out and smacked his shoulder. Derek shot him a wide stare, and Stiles nodded. "Yeah, asshole, that just happened. Stop doing that. It's annoying. Turn your ass back around and finish talking."

 

Derek blew out a puff of indignation but still turned back until he was facing Stiles again.

 

Stiles grinned. "There you go. Not hard, see? Now maybe you should explain this to me so I can better understand. You said this thing made you strong and weak. How does it make you strong?"

 

Derek regarded him with narrowed eyes before his shoulder's slumped. He gave a slight shrug. "It keeps me in control. It gives me focus. Strength."

 

Stiles tilted his head with a frown. "Wait...are we talking about your anchor here?"

 

Derek stiffened across from him, staring at the ground. After a moment he nodded.

 

"Okay, I'm confused. I thought your anchor was supposed to be all good. How can it make you weak?"

 

Derek scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out an aggravated growl. "It doesn't, not exactly. Just more so the notion of it."

 

"Dude...are you  _trying_ to be the worlds most vague person ever?" Stiles flailed with a look of annoyance.

 

Derek gave him the sass eye roll. "No, Stiles. It's just...My anchor is...different. It's not the same as what it was years ago." He glanced up at Stiles, taking in his perplexed expression with a soft sigh. "It's a person, Stiles. And that's never happened to me before. And it makes me feel weak, because people are..."

 

"Not permanent." Stiles answered in a soft voice.

 

Derek just looked up at him with wide eyes. But really, why would he be surprised. Stiles had always known him so well. Of course he would understand. So he just gave a nod. "Yeah. I was alright with it in the beginning, but after I left, I thought it would change. But it didn't. Because I was still clinging on."

 

Stiles frowned. "Why would your anchor change just because you left Beacon Hills?"

 

Derek stared at Stiles, debating just how much he should reveal. Finally he decided that if there were ever a time to be honest without consequences it was in a dream. "Because my anchor is you, Stiles. It's been you for years, now. I thought that once I left Beacon Hills that would change, because I wasn't around you anymore. But it hasn't. And it's because I won't  _let_ it change."

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/tumblr_n35f7iB8qi1rtwid9o5_500_zpsjl9hxkwq.png.html)

 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/tumblr_n35f7iB8qi1rtwid9o6_500_zpshwitztsy.png.html)

 

 

Stiles just stared at him, his mouth slightly ajar as he took in Derek's words. The last thing he had expected to hear from the man was that he was his anchor. His lifeline to humanity. Stiles understood how important anchors were to werewolves, and he knew that they were only formed though high emotion for that thing. They didn't always have to be people, hell from what he understood Derek's used to be anger, but if it  _were_ a person it was usually because said person meant a lot to the werewolf. Which meant that he meant a lot to Derek. Derek fucking Hale cared for him. Stiles sucked in a sharp gasp, jumping up from his seat. No. This was...just no. He couldn't know this. This was going to fuck with him so badly. He would never - wait... _this was a dream_.

 

And holy shit that hurt even more. Stiles groaned, folding in a bit on himself. Derek straightened on the bench, his brows lowering in worry. Stiles laughed humorlessly at the sight, shaking his head and turning around. "Wake up." He demanded of himself, feeling more than hearing Derek come to stand behind him. He dug his nails into his palms. "Wake up!"

 

 

******************

 

Stiles jerks awake, nearly falling out of the Clinic chair he had fallen asleep in. He squints in the low light, trying to make out the dark shapes of the room and settles on a lump on the floor that he knows is Scott. A few feet away from him is Malia. Stiles groans softly and drags his hand over his face tiredly. He grabs his phone from the table beside him and sighs when he see's it's barely past four. He had only been asleep for an hour maybe. Unfolding his body from the chair hurt like a bitch, but he eventually stumbled out of it and stretched, easing the kinks in his muscles. He stood there for a moment, his mind going back to his dream. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and suddenly all he wanted was to scream and throw shit. 

 

He pushed his way out of the backroom and further into the clinic to where Deaton kept all his magickal mojo for emergency cases. He flashed on the lights and began to look through everything just for the sake of being nosy. When he found a bottle of whiskey sitting high in a shelf he snorted, shaking his head. "Can't really see how this is useful against the supernatural." He reached up to take the stuff down, unscrewing the cap and taking a burning gulp. Because what the hell. His life was a mess anyways, why not make it a little messier. He had what was most likely the equivalent of three shots before he decided that he really needed some fresh air, so he pushed out the back entrance to the warm night air, staring up at the sky a while. Somehow he found himself sitting in his jeep, as if his legs had carried him there without knowledge. He sighed, staring down at his steering wheel, his heart racing in his chest and his fingers drumming the old, cracked leather of his seat. Not caring anymore he pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts and then slapped the phone to his ear before he could stop himself.

 

 

 

***********************

 

 

Derek moaned into the slightly stale smelling hotel pillow, rolling his eyes even though they were closed. At the bedside dresser his phone continued to ring and vibrate noisily, relentless. When it was clear it wasn't going to stop Derek let out a curse and grabbed the thing, not even looking at who was calling before slamming it to his ear and growling. " _What?"_

 

There was a soft snort on the other line that was instantly recognizable as Stiles'. "Someone's in a bad mood."

 

Derek frowned, a good ten seconds not saying a word. Because what the hell? He pulled the phone away to look at the time and swore again. "Stiles, what the hell are you doing? It's four thirty in the morning."

 

Stiles sighed. "Yeah, I know. Where are you at, anyways? You still at the hospital?"

 

Derek closed his eyes with an inward groan. "No. I got a room at a hotel nearby."

 

"Mmh."

 

Derek ground his teeth together. "Stiles please tell me you didn't call just to make unintelligent noises."

 

Stiles gave a slightly shaky laugh. "Uh, not really. Actually I don't even know why I called it's just...you're at a hotel? Near the hospital?"

 

Derek was really rethinking his life choices in that moment. " _Yes!_ " He hissed. "What do you want?"

 

And then the line went dead.

 

He frowned, pulling the phone away to stare at it again. He considered calling Stiles back, but in the end decided not to. Because honestly, he really didn't want to talk to Stiles at that moment. He rolled over to his side with a sigh, staring at the bare wall in front of him as he recalled his dream. Once again it had been about Stiles, and once again Derek had no idea why the hell it had even happened. He shut his eyes, remembering the way the sunlight had streamed in behind Stiles, creating a perfect golden outline around him that made him look like he was almost glowing. The glow had reached his eyes, somehow, even though that was impossible, and Derek found himself suddenly really wanting to go back to sleep in the hopes of finishing the dream. He couldn't help but imagine how Stiles would react if he ever found out that Derek was dreaming about him. Derek was sure he would never let him live it down. Sighing he resisted the urge to bury his face under the pillow and closed his eyes again. 

 

He felt restless, though, and between what had happened with Braeden and the Olitiau still being on the loose Derek didn't feel much like sleeping. He had only just fallen asleep when Stiles had called him. He was contemplating the thought of just getting up and heading out to start trying to track the Olitiau when he became aware of the familiar fluttery sounds of a heart beat. He frowned, turning his head to glance over at the door. The sound got louder and then the smell hit him. Derek blinked in slight confusion. What the hell was Stiles doing here?

 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/tumblr_mml7ymKLVd1qalaono3_250_zpsycr4124g.gif.html)

 

 

It struck him then that Stiles was alone, and with a sigh he quickly stood from bed, reaching to pull his jean's back on. He jerked open the hotel door to find Stiles standing a few feet down the pavement in front of another door. He twisted around with wide eyes at the sound and when he spotted Derek he grinned.

 

"Dude, I knew you were in one of these." He teetered over to Derek, his eyes slightly glassy.

 

Derek's nostril's flared and his eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

 

Stiles blinked at him, his mouth ajar. "Huh? No. Not really. Maybe a little tipsy, but totally not drunk."

 

Derek grabbed onto the material of his shirt and jerked him through the door with a growl, scanning the parking lot below and seeing Stiles blue jeep. " _You drove here?_ "

 

Stiles' only answer was a shrug as he moved around the room examining everything. He paused by the bed, staring down at the deshelved sheets.

 

Derek felt his frustration bubbling to new levels. "Stiles!" Stiles swung around to him, blinking rapidly like a deer caught in the headlights and Derek couldn't help but notice how incredibly beautiful his eye color really was. The deep, burnt gold was almost wolf like. Derek jerked his gaze downward to glare at Stiles nose instead. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you even know where I was? I never told you what hotel I was staying at!"

 

Stiles just rolled his eyes. "Dude, you told me you crashed at a hotel near the hospital. There are only about three nearby. I knew it couldn't be the dive on Greebrier because, well - " Stiles just motioned towards Derek with a snort, as if that said everything. "And so that left me with two options. The other one had rooms all ground floor, and then this one, with balcony floors." Stiles fluttered his fingers down on the bedside table's edge, brushing over the polished wood and Derek found himself glancing down to follow the movement. "I know with the Olitiau out there you'd want some sort of defense where you stay. Even if it's something small. I figured you'd think being on a balcony level would give you better advantage to get a look at what's coming, you know? And then as for the exact room..." Stiles grinned sheepishly. "Well I had actually planned to just knock on a few doors. Glad you found me first, though."

 

Derek stood there and had no idea what to do or say. The fact that Stiles knew him so well shouldn't have been shocking, but it was. Three years, he realized. He had known Stiles for three years. To a lot of people that wasn't really long, but to Derek it felt a a life time. Once upon a time he had been a no strings attached kind of person, in every way imaginable. Hell he thought he still was. But that wasn't true anymore. Stiles and his friends had become an important part in Derek's life. Stiles and his friends....not  _Scott_ and his friends. Suddenly Derek felt painfully vulnerable. He had to get Stiles out of here. "You need to leave."

 

Stiles paused, looking up at him with a frown. "Huh?"

 

Derek clenched his hands at his side. "You need to leave, Stiles! What the hell were you doing by yourself, anyways? Do you know how dangerous that is?!"

 

"I know!" Stiles hissed back. He let out a cry of frustration and scrubbed his hands over his face, suddenly looking just as vulnerable as Derek felt. "It's just I had that stupid fucking dream and now I can't stop thinking! And I mean, what the hell is up with that anyways?" Stiles threw up his hands, searching Derek's face like the answer was hidden somewhere there. Apparently he didn't find it, though, because he scoffed and looked away, shaking his head. "It's just so fucking typical, you know?"

 

No. For a matter of fact, Derek did not know. He didn't know what the hell Stiles was talking about, but that was mainly because he had kind of zoned out when Stiles had said the word 'dream'. 

 

"What do you mean -"

 

"And if it weren't for you and your stupid damn face!" Stiles hissed, interrupting Derek. "I mean  _seriously_ , what is that?!" He waved his hand in Derek's general area with a cringe. "I swear to god that face is the start of all this mess, because you sure as hell didn't have anything going for you personality wise when we first met."

 

Derek frowned. He was pretty sure that Stiles had somehow complimented and insulted him all at once. 

 

"And honesty I should have realized it sooner, I mean  _come on_. Lydia Martin? Classic signs here!" Stiles snorted, but then his face became suddenly serious. He dropped his hands at his side, his lips pressed in a tight line as he stared at Derek, and Derek just stared back at him, having no clue what to do. "I just...this may just be the whiskey speaking right now, but I really just need to....even if it's only once...I just..." 

 

Before Derek could even process what was happening, Stiles was moving forward with slow intent, his unblinking stare holding Derek hostage. Derek stiffened, his mind screaming to move but his feet seemed nailed to the floor and the next instant Stiles was standing directly in front of him. Close. Too close. His nostril's flared as for the first time he caught the scent of arousal. It was so thick that he nearly sneezed. How the hell hadn't he noticed  _that_ before? But the more that he thought of it, Derek realized that he had. It was just whenever the smell had been surrounding Stiles Derek had always naturally assumed that there was another reason for it. That it was either because Malia or Lydia were in the room. But now? There was no one else there to pass the blame on. 

 

Derek was still stumbling over the thought that it was all true, what he had heard Malia and Stiles talking about, when Stiles drew closer. So closer that Derek could feel the heat pouring off of him. His eyes widened and he looked at Stiles, their eyes almost completely level. He briefly thought about how in the past Derek had to bent his neck down slightly to look at him, and it made him almost hyper aware of the fact that Stiles wasn't a kid anymore. He was a man. "What..?" Jesus he couldn't even speak.

 

Stiles drew in a deep, soft breath, the tip of his tongue snaking out to wet his bottom lip. Derek's eyes lowered to chase the sight. Stiles' scent spiked and Derek looked up again to see Stiles staring at him with wide eyes. Derek finally got the good sense to take a step away. It didn't matter, though. In the next moment Stiles had his hand on the back of his neck and was pulling him forward, his lips pressed firmly on Derek's. Derek stiffened slightly, his hands fluttering awkwardly at his sides because he had no idea what the hell to do with them. In fact, he had no idea what to do about the entire situation. Stiles on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what to do. He drew closer still, until their chest's were almost touching, and with his other hand reached up to curl his four fingers under Derek's ear, with his thumb resting across his cheek. His head tilted slightly, and then his mouth started moving against Derek's. Just soft grazes that were hardly even there, leaving slight seconds in between each one. Derek's fingers twitched. Stiles whined against his mouth suddenly, and Derek could smell the frustration and desperation mingling with the scent of his arousal. For some reason that was what made him react. The fact that he didn't want Stiles to feel desperate. Hopeless. He cautiously kissed Stiles back, and it was like some spark had ignited.

 

Stiles drew in a soft gasp, and then moaned fully. His grip at the back of Derek's neck tightened and for some reason that made Derek moan as well. Stiles' lips were as soft as Derek had always imagined, and tasted even more sweet. His hands were up and gripping Stiles hips before Derek knew he was going to move them. The kiss had gone from breathless teases to downright filthy in seconds, and Derek wasn't sure how he managed to keep up but all he knew is the next moment Stiles' tongue was snaking inside of his mouth and then Derek just didn't think anymore. 

 

Stiles was everywhere. His hands grasping, his mouth demanding. It wasn't until Derek's back hit the wall that he realized Stiles had been walking him backwards to it. The fact that he hadn't even noticed his own body's movement was not lost on him. With Stiles pressed so firmly against him, Derek could feel Stiles' cock pressed against him, hard in his jeans, and when Stiles grinded his hips against him, Derek realized that he was hard as well, straining in his too tight pants. His grip on Stiles hip tightened, trying to still him, because Derek couldn't do that. It was bad enough that he was kissing Stiles, but if Stiles kept rutting against him like that he was going to do something they would both regret later. Stiles, ever the persistent one, tried to roll his hips forward again, and was stopped by Derek's firm grip. Derek felt him let out a puff of aggravated air before he was biting down in retaliation on Derek's bottom lip. Derek sucked in a sharp gasp at the slight sting, and then moaned when Stiles' tongue began to chase the pain away. Jesus Christ how the hell was Stiles so good at this? It wasn't like he had had years of practice. Derek couldn't help but wonder what else he was good at.

 

"God, been wanting to do that so long." Stiles breathed, breaking away from Derek's mouth to trail kisses down to his jaw, which he nibbled on briefly, making Derek twitch and his eyes close. As Stiles' lips trailed further down his head tilted automatically to give him more access, and Stiles took advantage of the opening immedietly, tracing his tongue over the spot where Derek's pulse was fluttering in his neck. 

 

Derek let out a shaky breath. They had to stop. Stiles had been drinking. It wasn't right. Derek felt like he was fishing for excuses,  _anything_ that would make them stop, make him feel guilty, but it just wasn't happening. Because Derek  _wanted_ to kiss Stiles. He wanted Stiles mouth trailing over his skin, his hands grabbing and clutching. He wanted to see that sinful mouth in action and to feel those long, slender fingers trailing fire over his body. And Derek wanted to touch him even more. To trace the scatter of moles on his cheek and neck with his lips, and especially that tiny one Derek had spotted near Stiles left nipple when his shirt had been off at the clinic. Letting out a growl of arousal Derek grabbed Stiles face and drew him back to his lips. Stiles let out a filthy, pleased moan, tangling his tongue with Derek's while his nimble fingers flitted down Derek's chest and belly, his muscles quivering at the contact. Something in the back of Derek's mind whispered danger but he found himself steadfastly ignoring it instead because Stiles' hands on him felt so good and he wasn't sure he had the strength to stop him. 

 

When Stiles fingers slid into his jeans, though, teasing, Derek stilled, pausing in his kiss. Stiles drew away from him slowly, looking up with huge, pupil blown eyes and Derek's breath caught in his throat at the sight of him. It was the most seductive sight he had ever seen. His lips parted with a glistening wet sheen, slightly swollen from kisses. His face was flushed, red high on his cheeks, and his chest rising and falling in deep, quivering breaths. Stiles fingers moved within his waist band, sliding further, and Derek swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing.

 

"Stiles..." Fuck his voice sounded wrecked. Like gravel scraped against sandpaper.

 

Stiles' face shifted, the corners of his lips pulling down as he groaned. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on Derek's collarbone. "Please don't fucking say no." He breathed, his voice nearly begging. "I just...let me touch you, Derek. I need to touch you..." His head shifted slightly until he was placing kisses on the sensitive skin of Derek's neck.

 

Derek let out a shaky breath, licking his lips and holding onto Stiles shoulders like his life depended on it. He tried to speak at least a full half minute as Stiles teased his neck, to stop him or urge him on, he wasn't really sure, but eventually Stiles took his silence as answer enough because the next moments his fingers were pulled from Derek's jeans, and instead popping the button of them, and then pushing the zipper down. And then one of those large, heavily veined hands were slipping past his briefs, and Derek sucked in a choked gasp when Stiles' fist curled tight around him. Stiles moaned into his neck, like he was somehow getting physical pleasure just from touching Derek, and for some reason that thought just made him grow even harder, nearly painfully so. 

 

Stiles eagerly pushed his jeans and briefs down until they were barely clinging low on his hips, and then he was drawing away slightly, tilting his head to look down with a soft sigh. Derek wasn't a self conscious person. Never had been. Being a natural born wolf you just kind of got used to people running around naked, especially in his house hold. And after his full shift the feeling had become even more natural, yet for some reason he found his heart pounding nervously as Stiles stared down at him. Derek let out a shaky breath as Stiles' thumb circled around the head of his shaft, gathering the precum there and rubbing it against his foreskin. Stiles pumped his wrist downward slightly until the head was bare, and then began to twirl his thumb against the sensitive skin once more, and this time Derek couldn't hold in his gasp. 

 

"God." Stiles breathed, sounding somehow pained. "Always knew you would be perfect."

 

If Derek were a cat he would have purred he felt prideful. 

 

Stiles began to work at him, his wrist twisting mind-numbingly slow until Derek's hips  were jerking forward, seeking out a faster pace. Stiles, the little shit he was, grinned as if the thought of Derek sexually frustrated amused him, but he thankfully began to work at Derek faster. 

 

Stiles grip was dry, and maybe even a little rough, but Derek couldn't seem to care. His head fell back against the wall as his breathing quickened, and Stiles edged closer, running his nose up Derek's neck until his lips were tugging at his ear lobe, and when he started whispering things in Derek's ear,  _filthy_ , teasing words let out in hot breaths, it was like Derek was joltingly pushed off of that cliff he had been teetering on. He cried out, folding a little in on himself until his head was on Stiles shoulder. His hips jerked uncontrollably as he came, hot stripes of white that covered Stiles hand and both of their shirts. 

 

For a moment they both just stood there, sharing one another's space and trying to calm their breathing. Derek tried to come to terms with the fact that he may or may not have just had the best hand job of his life, and he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Stiles' skill. Now that the moment was over, Derek found himself crashing back to reality. Stiles began to draw slowly away and Derek almost let out a cry of protest, not because he didn't want to break connection (which, okay was true), but because the thought of facing Stiles head on was suddenly the most horrifying thing ever. 

 

Derek quickly tucked himself back in his pants, ignoring the fact that he was most likely getting cum on his briefs. It wasn't like they weren't already covered in it anyways. He didn't bother zipping and buttoning.

 

"So....that just happened." 

 

Derek wanted to close his eyes and groan, because only Stiles could make this even more awkward then it already was. He let out a puff of air through his nose, finding himself staring down at a seemingly very interesting spot on the floor. 

 

Stiles sighed in front of him, and Derek could smell a slight twinge of sadness in his scent. "Derek, will you at least look at me?"

 

Derek finally did, and was met by nervous hesitation in Stiles' eyes. His stomach twisted at the sight, and he hated the thought of hurting Stiles more but he just couldn't be there. "Don't go anywhere."

 

Stiles frowned at the gruff order. "What?"

 

"Don't go anywhere." Derek drew out again. "Stay in this room, do you understand?"

 

Stiles shook his head. "No, Big Guy, I don't understand. What's happening here?"

 

Derek cut him a glare before pulling his tank over his head. Stiles mouth immedietly snapped shut as his eyes widened and he took in the expanse of toned skin. Derek turned and unlocked the door, opening it slightly. He hesitated only a moment before his jeans and briefs were pushed down, and then the change came over him. He heard Stiles let out a gasp behind him as he shook out his fur, stretching his limbs a second to ease the tingle that was always under his skin just after shifting. He cast one long look back at Stiles, and then nosed the door wider and ran out. Stiles yelled behind him, his feet rushing forward but Derek was already halfway down the stairs to the ground floor. 

 

He wasn't going to leave the hotel. He wasn't going to risk leaving Stiles alone, but he needed time to think, and he couldn't do that if he was in the same room as Stiles. He jumped the last few steps and quietly darted through the cars in search of a quiet place to sit. Over head the sun had since rose, but had yet to reach it's full ascent, and it cast a pale pink, tranquil glow over the world that clashed with Derek's thoughts. 

 

He really hoped that for once Stiles listened to him and wouldn't leave the damned hotel. 

 

 

************************************

 

 

Stiles stood in the door way, staring down at the ground level with huge eyes. Because fucking shit Derek Hale just  _had_ to be the world's most emotionally constipated werewolf ever! Realizing that it was pointless to try and find him Stiles slammed the door shut and locked it. The knob came away sticky and he sighed when he realized that yeah, Derek's cum was still all over his hands. His shirt too, for that matter. Licking his lips nervously Stiles headed for the bathroom and began to clean himself off, noticing that his hands began to shake slightly. He pulled off his shirt and threw it with a frustrated cry, just standing in the room with a look of fury on his face. Cause yeah, he was fucking pissed.

 

Of all the things to do in their situation, fucking running away was both the worst and most expected for Derek. 

 

Stiles eventually found himself stumbling back until his legs hit the bed. He fell down and just sat there, shoulders slumped and head down. 

 

After minutes of silence he eventually sent Scott a text, letting him know that he was alright and with Derek, because even though the failwolf had run out, Stiles had no doubt that he was still hiding out at the hotel somewhere. He wouldn't leave when the Olitiau was still out there. Stiles shut off his phone, not wanting to answer any questions Scott would no doubt have, and kicked off his shoes and pants. He saw Derek's duffle bag at the edge of the bed and pulled out a tee shirt, slipping it on with a sigh before laying back on the bed. Even though he doubted he'd be able to sleep, he drifted almost as soon as his eyes shut. 

 

The sound of scratching at the door was what woke him. He rolled over in the bed with a groan, slapping his hand on the bedside table for the hotel alarm clock. 7:15 flashed back at him in angry red letters. Groaning again Stiles sat up, his face pinching tight as he looked around the room. The scratching came again, and this time he realized it was at the door. He had no doubt in his mind about what it was, and with a sigh stood and made his way over to the door. Derek darted in the moment he unlocked it and pulled it open, and Stiles stared down at his wolf form with an unimpressed stare. "Really?" He muttered. "Still?"

 

Derek ignored him completely as he jumped up on the bed, sitting at the bottom and finally turning to look at him.

 

Rolling his eyes Stiles locked the door back and stumbled back to the bed, falling into the covers with a sigh. He heard Derek letting out a few huff's and snorted. "Dude. I've gotten maybe two hours of sleep total. You're insane if you think I'm doing anything but going back to bed. If you got a problem with it you can run your little wolf ass back off." He rubbed his cheek against the soft pillow and settled in. At the base of the bed Derek lowered himself to lay down and Stiles snorted softly. "At the bottom of the bed? You really are kind of like a dog in that form, aren't you?" A low growl sounded in the room and Stiles rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude. I'm so not impressed. That stopped scaring me year's ago. And just an FYI, you can change back, you know. I'm not going to jump you or anything. Well..I may hit you, but you would kind of deserve that." Stiles was met with silence, and after a moment he twisted around to see Derek laying with his head on his legs, eyes closed. He knew for a fact that the wasn't asleep, though. 

 

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes once again.

 

 

*************************

 

 When he wakes again Stiles feel's more refreshed than he has in weeks. Maybe even years. There's something living and warm against his side, and his hand instinctively reaches out, his fingers tangling with thick fur that makes him sigh in content as he draws himself closer, burying his face in and inhaling the scent of soft spice and dark earth. A soft rumbling purr comes from the thing, and Stiles blink's his eyes open, finding himself staring into Derek's black fur, his face buried close to his neck. He draws away after a moment, and then he's looking into familiar dark hazel eyes. He can't help but grin. "You're such a creeper wolf." Derek let's out a rumbling growl that doesn't quite reach his wolf eyes. Stiles laughs softly, looking away to stare at the soft fur that he's rubbing beneath his fingertips. He stares at the spot a long while as his face slowly changes, his jaw clenching and his eyes watering. 

 

Derek whines beside him and Stiles let's out a shaky laugh, shaking his head. "It's your fault, asshole. You just had to come back..." He gives a bitter laugh. "Hell, I guess it's my fault, too. I shouldn't have come. I was doing good, you know? I mean it wasn't easy, but I would have been alright eventually."

 

Derek whines again, shifting slightly and then he's licking at Stiles hairline. Stiles scoff's and pushes him away with his nose scrunched. "Dude, I don't want dog drool on my face." 

 

They lay in silence a moment, and when Stiles finally faces Derek, his eyes are watery and there's a sad, slightly broken expression on his face. "I love you, you know? I kind of think I always have, in away. I wasn't going to say anything about it, was going to try to ignore it, but when has that ever been me? I mean, I never hold this shit back, you know?" He draws off with a curse, wiping at his face as his tear's fall. And I really hope we didn't, but I can't help but feel like we really fucked everything up. You fucking  _ran_ , Derek. Just left.  _Again_." He shut his eyes, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. "I just...I don't want to lose you again. Even if you can only be my friend. I'm prepared for that, I mean Lydia Martin, yeah? And to be honest I never expected anything else, so I don't want you to get all quiet and brooding on me. This doesn't have to change anything."

 

Derek huff's and lays his head on his paws, cutting his eyes up at Stiles in a way that's almost accusing, and for some reason Stiles get's it. He just  _gets it._

 

"Okay, so maybe I had decided to do the whole silent and brooding thing. To push you out, and I was kind of a dick there at the hospital. I just...I was upset, okay? And as much as a fail move it was to ditch me after what happened, it also kind of gave me time to think. I don't want this  _thing_ to come between us. As much as we hated each other in the beginning, we're kind of an awesome team now. You're my friend, Derek. Hell, one of my best friends." He gave a shaky smile. "I got over Lydia, right? It will be fine. Everything will be okay." Stiles sighs, shifting until he's laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He glances over at Derek with a slight grin after a moment though. "But maybe in the future you should work on saying no to random hand jobs. I mean, I know they're kind of hard to pass up, but that kind of stuff tends to confuse-" He draws off with a yelp as Derek nips at his shoulder with a glare before making a few rumbling sounds that Stiles associates to grumbling in wolf form. He gives a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

 

His not sure if they ever will again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand, the story will be Bottom!Stiles, Top!Derek.
> 
> SIIIIIGH. One day, Derek. One day.
> 
> U_U Ima put it in one of my stories one day, maybe soon, and you guys are going to be so flipping surprised because you are going to LOVE it and you will never be the same!!!!
> 
> Who WOULDN'T want to bottom that. The bunny teeth :'( 
> 
> Maybe it's just Tyler Hoechlin I wanna ravish and not Derek Hale haha that could be it.

**Author's Note:**

> haha i LOVE the Liam/Stiles dynamic. I think they are very funny together and I can easily see Liam as an annoying little brother to Stiles. 
> 
> My brother & I had a similar thing where we'd annoy the shit out of each other. When I was about 15 he pushed me out of a tree. I broke my arm. LOL. The absolute fit my mom threw was payback enough. And then I kind of shot him in the ass with a dart a few weeks later so...water under the bridge XD


End file.
